The Colour Purple
by y8irl.SniperBoy
Summary: The Ultimate High, The Root of Evil, The Berserker Phenomenon, The Rival Complex, and, The [RIOT] of the blood. Which character are [you]? ...I can't let you go. Up until 15 years do pass.
1. Hajimete

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 1: Hajimete**

It was a lazy Friday afternoon, and all time seemed to go much too slowly. The world was much too peaceful and at times you could even find amusement as you watched the trees sway in the wind; or as leaves rush across the dusty road.

It was a simple life these people lived... Once in a while they would call up old friends and chat about the weather; or even remember happy days, when everything was so much simpler.

It was true - no one was really satisfied with the mundane lives they lived, everyone thirsts for change, for some colour in their dreary lives. They want an adventure, or even a chance to make their mark in the world. Beyond the endless paperwork, the rush jobs, or even the simple chores. "I just want a change! I just want to make a difference in the world! I just want to feel needed! Feel that I am worth something." Inside their timid exteriors dwells a desire to become someone else, someone new... Maybe each one of us wants to live in our own world... A place free from the mundane rituals of the real world, where one can play by their own rules, where anyone can be the best.

In the middle of a vast plot of land surrounded by seemingly endless forest stood a fortress, no, a palace, protected by layers of high reaching walls and barricades, and only the drifting cherry blossoms could so much as step inside this magnificent complex. A maroon haired figure stood slump next to a pond, waiting, contemplating... Between his dark crimson locks you could see glints of hate shining within his eyes. He had his back in an arc, almost petrified, and his arms would dance ever so slowly, weaving one over the other so smoothly and swiftly that you could hear the sweet whistle of the wind resonate throughout the stone garden.

Over and under the pair would dance, and leading would be long dexterous fingers that would move independently from each digit. He was pacing through ritual exercise, going slowly, then fast all the while twisting his body like that of a water wave. His palms would hit high, then low, twisting and curling, around an invisible entity.

A female voice was suddenly heard from the background saying, "Young master, your father would like to speak to you... about the tournament..."

"SHUT UP!" He yelled, not even slowing his rhythm. "I'm busy."

The kimono clad servant only knelt a few meters from him and bowed lowly.

"Your father said that it was urgent that he speak to you before he leaves for Paris."

He only flinched in disgust and cocked his arms back slowly. He closed his eyes and went into steady rhythmic breathing, and to the servants' amazement, his hands slowly flickered, and burst into purple flames. His eyes darted open, looking straight at the concrete wall roughly fifteen meters in front of him. In a twinkling, his knees tensed and the mud beneath his feet gave way and exploded towards all directions as he lunged fearlessly towards the masonry wall.

His right palm connected first, slapping the stone, leaving long cracks over his palm mark, again and again he would slap, claw and punch in a dizzying frenzy, occasionally leaving purple fires in the cracks, and staining the wall with his own warm blood. Like a savage animal, he would relentlessly flail and maul his enemy.

After a few minutes, he pulled both arms in a snap, and the servant could faintly see the terrifying amount of damage inflicted on the concrete. What happened next was blindingly quick as well - the young master let out a scream so inhuman, it sounded more like a wild animal. He put his hands into fists and the tense veins bulged from his temples... The flames in his fists grew brighter and danced frantically like a hungry beast. Dust flew into the servant girl's eyes and wind seemed to come from all directions encircling the young master, making the grass skip left and right, and the cherry blossoms encircle him. A scream ran through the air...

"Asobi wo Owarida!" The young master howled.

Both palms dug deep and the wall exploded into purple flames. The

servant girl fell back in fright, and looked in amazement at the pile of rubble which was once part of the courtyard wall.

The young master, with an evil visage toddled towards the girl, crouched down and held her chin firmly with his blood soaked hands.

"What is it that my father wants?" the young master questioned her. The

young master's eyes tightened into small slits as he grinned evilly at the girl. He grasped her kimono with both hands and tugged, making both of their eyes meet.

"Are you afraid of me? Do you love me? Do you hate me?", the young master sneered.

He tugged sideways and almost shredded her kimono with hardly any effort. The servant only turned her head to the side and tried to keep herself covered.

"Please forgive me for bothering you, young master.", she apologized pathetically, as she handed an envelope to her master. "Your father asked me to give this to you..."

The young master examined the envelope he now had in his hand... It was pearl white with gold trimmings on the side, and it was sealed with blood red wax... imprinted with an initial "R". He took his eyes away from the letter for a moment, and looked over at the servant girl who was still kneeling but trying her best to cover her half naked body with her shredded kimono. The young master gripped what was left of her collar and hoisted her up. The girl stood calm with her eyes closed and teary...

She looked so unafraid the young master thought to himself, but he could see feel that she was shaking all over.

"Why? Why do you do this?" The young master shouted at her.

He put his cheek next to hers and licked the blood that stained her cheeks. Then slowly he slid his hands down her shoulder and held her wrists. The servant girl refused to move, probably because of fright. He continued to caress her thighs and wrapped his other arm around her back.

The envelope burst into purple flames behind the girls back, leaving only blue ashes and a letter in the young master's hand... with his cheek still on hers, his eyes rolled left and right, reading... His other hand went between her torn garments, but she still didn't move, and he could feel her heart race quicker with every passing moment. His fingers crawled over her chest, down between her thighs, and found its way to her shoulders once again. He fixed his hand over her shoulders and stretched his arms full, looking over at the still unmoving girl. The young master's face slowly became calm, and his eyebrows relaxed as his eyes widened, almost out of pity at the tear streaks on the maiden's face.

"Why do you allow my father to do this to you? Why do you not get angry when I treat you like this?" He coolly said. "Do you enjoy this? I can see from your eyes, from the way you act, this isn't at all your will. What has he against you? Is he holding someone you love, is he blackmailing you? Look at me face to face... Talk to me... I am not like him... Consider me a human - talk to me like another person damn it! I have seen you day by day, succumbing to my father's earthly desires. Don't you have any self respect at all...?!"

The young master's hand tensed and shook the girl's shoulder, every fiber of his being begging for an answer. All he wanted was to be able to talk to anyone like a human being. He has lived all of his life in isolation, within their family's palace like complex.

He always got what he wanted, pleasure, pain, desires, but all he wanted was to be able to talk to someone like a person- the way friends would laugh and play together as he saw on the television, but all he had were mindless servants, each had their own reasons for being there... sometimes it was for the money, blackmail, or even because their entire family was destroyed by his power-hungry father. This young master's father was a Yakuza don, and held silent power which rivaled even those of the figurehead in the government, but unlike those corrupted fools seated in power, his father was free from the rules. He could rape, steal, kill, and even control the lives of any human being, much like a god.

The young master could sometimes pick out individuals in his large brothel of servants, special individuals... priests, soldiers, even the sons and daughters of other Yakuza families that his father destroyed with a wink of an eye, but this girl seemed different, and he couldn't understand her. She didn't seem like she hated the inhuman acts his father was doing to her, and according to the other servants, she wasn't kept by force...

As if She were a servant because of her own free will.

"Is it loyalty then? Did my father save your family from another Yakuza?

Did he adopt you? Is this why you still endure the hell he gives you? Loyalty? You must think so highly of him, don't you? You see him as the kindest individual in the world... you, a complete stranger who he offered a new life to."

The young master pulled her towards him, and the servant girl only cried and hugged the young master tightly. He took off his black jacket, put it over her tattered clothes, and moved her aside.

{Today will not be the day... I swear; will today be the day?}

{I won't end up like him! Damn you father! All my life I've seen so many definitions of power... Wealth, the ability to kill, inhuman strength, but never have I witnessed power greater than yours... the ability to toy with people's lives. One day I will destroy you... After 21 years of waiting, I will be able to step out of this complex to fulfill your ambitions... The time has come for me to strut my role on stage, and face my destiny.}

A piece of paper floated down from behind him, and spontaneously burst into purple fire... "This is an invitation made, to those worthy to step into the hallowed walls of the King of Fighters Tournament... Announcing the 1995 King of Fighters tournament. The event will be conducted as the previous ones, and we welcome both new and old teams, however, we will implement a new rule this coming year... Break a spine, R...

His Excellency will be expecting the young master Iori Yagami... Please make

plans for the upcoming year... dated May 27, 1993...

{two years... two years of freedom} Iori thought to himself...

The wind howled softly, and Iori brushed his hair to the side...

"When I return, I will be more powerful than you can ever imagine... So, I have two years to explore the outside world..."

Iori grinned and slung his leather duffel bag behind him, and walked out the towering gates that marked the opening of Yagami palace the gates that hid a legacy of deceit pain, suffering, and selfish dreams, and now this young man would leave it all behind to live his life, a life he hopes to be his own, but inevitably, it would be one his father had laid out for him...

...


	2. Joe's Diner

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 2: Joe's Diner**

The streets were deceivingly peaceful at night, but during the day, it would bustle with activity... The morning sun prevented anything from being tucked away.

All around you'd see individuals that lead different walks of life... There would be lovers quarreling, children playing, girls laughing, businessmen rushing about their way, and even the occasional diner crowded with a ruckus of free, unadulterated peoples.

This peninsula is called New Hong Kong, an artificial island, which started when the treaties between Nations became so complex, that countries couldn't even decide where to trade goods anymore... so they decided to make their own island...

…and in this place, races from all over would converge to lead a new life, free from the politics that bound them back home... Little Italy, Neo Tokyo, North Mexico, and many other little towns held their own culture and legacy...

The cherry blossoms were in bloom and scattered the pretty pastel leaves all over the town. So this town is called little Italy, and a well-kept secret is a nice joint called 'Joe's Diner'.

It seemed like any ordinary truck driver's haven, but the simple food had it's own unique style... Sometimes when you've tasted great food, you find something new, and you realize that you haven't experienced simple food... Well, that's what Joe's diner was there for. It's not a fancy French restaurant, nor was it a posh bistro... It's a place where good home-style meals are slaved on by an individual who loves to cook... It comes from the heart, the art of cooking, and not done for show.

It's a legacy built upon its own romance.

Iori, with his leather duffel bag slung behind him, walked into the diner. It had an old American feel. There were James Dean posters on the walls and those nostalgic looking coke vending machines, and classic jukeboxes.

Iori sat down on one of those stools on the bar, and looked over the menu. His posture was shot as usual and he wore the grim look on his face.

He started to get impatient, having been waited on his whole life by a harem of servants; he never experienced an atmosphere where HE had to wait. In fact, he didn't know how to act in a restaurant… It was kind of amusing to the other customers seeing this man sit on the bar, and looking around, seemingly not knowing what to do next. Iori looked around him and followed a man at the other side of the room raise his hand to get the waitress' attention, but he stopped, unsure of the gesture. He hunched again and unknowingly hid behind his Menu.

Iori got frustrated and hit the bar with his fist.

"What the HELL are you staring at!" Iori growled at the snickering customers jeering behind him. Then as he was about to get up, and reach for a random victim to release his frustrations onto, a fan tapped his shoulders and Iori swung aside, and began a motion for a backhand.

Iori's backhand flew straight aiming for whoever's unfortunate face was behind him. He hit, but didn't feel flesh or bone... It was wood...

"Hey, Okyaku-sama (customer), you shouldn't act like that, we may be slow, but we're not THAT slow... Just don't leave so much of a tip okay, but don't harass the other customers." the young lady in a skimpy, low-cut looking waitress outfit cooed.

Iori looked at his hand in surprise and saw a wooden fan clipped onto his wrist, and in a blinding twist the fan slithered around his arm and forced his palm back on the bar.

The cheerful waitress only smiled. She was wearing one of those stereotype "waitress on roller skates" outfits that were so popular back then. She had a pink top and a short ruffled skirt. Iori glanced at her chest and saw a pin... Mai, it read.

"Now," Mai asked, "what do you want for lunch?"

Iori looked puzzled, so Mai pointed to the menu. Iori looked over and slid his finger over the numbers and reached 'Philly cheese steak'. Iori grunted without taking his taught, slit tense eyes off the naive looking waitress.

"Haaaaiii! (Yup)," Mai cheered and went off behind the bar and called out the order number into the window that lead into the kitchen.

Iori sat on the barstool once again to regain his composure and wondered what the napkins and those tubes with pepper and salt were doing on the countertop.

Iori felt through his jacket, it was cut off just below his chest, and he slid his hand under the flaps to get his pack of Lucky Strikes. Iori tapped it and slid a stick into his mouth, and waited, then he realized that he didn't have a lighter in hand and he also didn't have any servants at his beck and call. So he picked up a napkin and lit it. The tissue exploded into purple flames and he used that to light his cigarette. Just after he took his first puff, he heard a call come from the kitchen.

"Oi! Okyaksama (customer), Be careful when you do that okay... I love this diner more than my own mother loves me. Understand!?", came the voice of the chef.

That sounded rather long and corny.

Iori peeped through the window and saw someone from the neck down... the front was covered by a white apron that had 'Joe can cook' embossed on it. He examined some more and noticed bandaged hands grip the edges of the window, and slowly he could see an Asian chef lean over and peep through the window. The chef had a tall white hat on which abruptly fell as it hit the end of the edge. And beneath the had exposed hair in tall spikes as if the chefs hat's sole purpose was to mold this guy's hair. The chef introduced himself as Joe as he went around the side and to the kitchen door. Joe hung his apron up and all he was wearing underneath was a white T-shirt, a pair of orange Bermuda shorts and Nike sneakers.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around town," Joe smiled to Iori... Joe looked over to Mai and asked her to take orders while he kept the customer occupied. "I know pretty much everybody in this town, cause one reason or another the guys go to Joe's Diner..."

Joe's million dollar smile roared as he proclaimed "JOE'S DINER!"

Sometimes they go here on dates, on business, even illegal sometimes, but I keep my mouth shut because it IS an honour thing... Hey, one time a couple had their wedding, or was it first date anniversary here... Yeah it's a great place." Joe went on and looked to the side at his James Dean Memorabilia..

"Hey, I guess you ARE new in town, tell me where're from? I'm building up on my 60's rebel stuff, and I haven't seen many diners like mine... (Joe liked to talk to himself as you can see) so tell me..." Joe continued as he turned around to face Iori, but to his surprise he saw no one there...

"A-re? (uh?)" Joe stammered, as a sweat drop trickled down his temple. Without warning, a tray hit his head from behind, making his eyes pop from his head...

Joe turned around to see an agitated Mai towering over him.

"BAKA! (idiot)" Mai scolded, "Look, you scared him off! He probably got sick and tired of your talking.. that's why I do the talking and YOU do the cooking remember?"

Mai pouted and walked away... "And he looked kind'a cute too."

Joe rubbed the back of his head and his eyes slit. {That's not an ordinary man...} Joe thought to himself (He continued to philosophize to himself, sagely resting his chin in his fingers, contemplating. {I felt some power radiating from him, and it was a good thing Mai stopped him before he could wreck MY RESTAURANT…

{He IS new in this town, and doesn't look too friendly... I may have to keep an eye out for him..}

"JOE!" Mai screamed once more.

"Hai HAI HAI! (ok ok ok)," Joe stammered as he threw both arms to the side like a mime... "I'll get back to the kitchen okay!"

Joe leaped over the bar and reached for the kitchen door, he felt something strange and looked behind him. Joe was in awe as he saw the napkin still burning, and had melted through the countertop and onto the concrete floor, the napkin, not even showing any signs of ash or burn...

…


	3. YUME

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Even at gunpoint, we are FREE to make our own decisions. No one can forcefully take away your honour; only you can sell it because of fear. As long as you make a choice out of your own free will, and not for another's wishes, then you can have no regrets.

To make another happy in this world is such a wonderful feeling, but life is too short for you to sacrifice your honour for what another wants you to become.

Live for today and the future! Never linger in the past, but do not forget its lessons. You never have to justify the suffering of the yesterday by sacrificing your happiness tomorrow.

(Original philo based from Mr. Troy Kloss) -05.24.04

**Chapter 3: Yume**

Approximately 3 blocks from Joe's Diner, away from that nostalgic old American feel, was a construction site, and it was nothing like the old easy going neighbourhood- there was the thunder of machinery and hollering construction workers. The scorching heat beat down on these guys harshly; sweat covered bodies fighting against fatigue, just to get along in life. It was a simple life for these men and women.

Probably kept on their toes by the hardships of this blue-collar lifestyle, but away from the troubles of a fake, rich complicated life. They lived in their own world, and functioned as a family, unlike businessmen who would have 'business friends'- it was a dog eat dog world up there, but to these guys, they were all brothers, suffering from the same pain and pleasure. Suffering down below.

A stout, bearded man came over and did his rounds yelling "Hey guys, It's lunchtime, drop all that shit and get some din 'kay!"... He has no name to his businessmen superiors, but to his men, he was called Dad... He was the closest they could get to a father figure at work - their outstretched palms would get no concern from the big-shots, but Dad... well, 'Boss' sometimes, would be there to stick up for them. Dad would get sincere, warm smiles day to day, and he, no matter how fatigued or stresses by his own bosses, would always have time to pat his men on the back and comfort them.

The sound of the clanking and roaring gears would stop as he walked by, except for one certain individual who Dad had to personally drag out of work. The thundering jackhammer would just go on and on relentlessly, deaf to Dad's calls. Dad came over to him, a sweat-drenched workaholic wearing the same white tank top over his shredded jeans day after day.

"Hey kid, your body can't go on this way if you don't get some grub." Dad smiled.

The muscled man, finally gave in and turned the hammer off. He set it on the ground carefully and reached for his towel and ran it through his drenched face and blonde hair.

"Yeah, thanks Dad..." he said.

"You know," Dad asked as he usually did to this man, "I can't understand why you still work this fucked up job... I mean, you're brother is up there... he practically OWNS this company, and still you work here and get your hands dirty... I just don't get it."

…

[The worst is over now and we can breathe again]

[I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away]

[There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight]

[I wanna hold you high and steal your pain]

-Broken (Seether Feat & Amy lee)

…

"Well, like I always tell you guys... The rich life isn't for me. I'm not like my brother. I prefer a more simple life."

"But what does your brother say about this?"

"Well, my brother and I don't get along very well... we do things very differently, and besides we've been in rivalry since we were very young..."

(I like the way you laugh)

"We lost our father at a very young age and had to live our lives our way. He went his way and I went mine... Besides, I don't want to owe him anything."

(He wondered why he was telling this man all of this... So suddenly; but, it felt good hat someone would listen to his long winded talk.)

"Your father was killed right?" Dad asked.

"Yeah... It hit us pretty hard back then... I was so crushed that I just ran away from it all. I'm sure my brother was filled with the same anger, but he had more ambition than I did. He did better in school and put up this company. He thinks that one day he can buy away his sadness or maybe buy his revenge. I guess he was the smarter of us both... You can't survive on dreams or desire alone in this world alone can you?"

(You can't survive on dreams or desire alone in this world alone can you?)

"Hey, don't talk that shit with me, kid... Sure we might not be happy with our simple lives here, and yeah, I want to do some stuff with money too, but..."

(I just wanted someone to listen... that's all, just listen to me. All men want someone to listen. Even if they know they don't' mean it.)

There was a moment of pause and the blue-jeaned man continued to wipe the glittering sweat from his muscular arms and under his shirt.

"Dad," the golden haired man exclaimed, "People can't survive on dreams and love alone you know... Sure It's good stuff, but you need bread too right?"

"Hmmf!" Dad grunted, "You're just a wishy-washy drifter, kid... You haven't seen the other side of the fence. Up there it's a dog eat dog world. There 'aint no such thing as brotherhood, or love up there - only money - and power... That's what makes life worth living up there! And once you start, it's like a drug you can't have enough of it. Sometimes you have so much greed that you forget your dreams and what you wanted in the first place. Corrupted by power, and lust... the simple things don't matter anymore."

(What?)

"I'm just a simple kid, Dad."

"Just remember, kid, down here were closer to the earth, and far away from the clouds... and the people close to the earth are more in touch with their dreams and hopes... The rich have no dreams like we do."

"Sometimes I wonder what my dream is... I keep on fighting... I fight all the time that after the fight, I don't know what's left for me... there is only emptiness and longing. I've been in the revenge business for so long that I don't know what to do afterwards."

"You worry too much kid. You should eat your lunch and take this shit one day at a time."

"You said that money and power are like drugs, but what about hate and longing? Dreams... don't they destroy you too?"

"Only if you let 'em, kid... Just remember, down here in this hell-hole of a world, we simple folk only have our dreams, and the moment those dreams are turned into money and power, then it's all over! I've been up there kid, and I asked myself what I was doin'... sleepin' with bitches 'vry night and drinkin' my youth away. I felt so good...

(felt so good)

so strong, but it all came tumbling down in a snap of some god's fingers. I lost my dreams, both up there and down here, but I realized, yeah, the world is full of dreamers like us who seem so pathetic and selfish, but if you let your dreams go like I did once, what have you left?"

The jeaned man patted Dad on the back and just smiled.

"Hey, Dad" he said, "Take it easy okay, I'm not that lost yet."

"You just remember that I'm doing this because I care about all of you'se... You guys are the closest I have to a family."

The jeaned character pulled out a red cap from his back pocket and put it over his eyes as he grabbed a submarine sandwich from his crimson duffel bag.

"Hey!" Dad yelled out as his 'son' walked away, "I forgot why I came to you... There's that kid.. waassis name, the guy with the blue jeans and the headband... He's been hanging around like always at the fence waitin to eat lunch with you."

"Oh... Tell him I have to take a shower and I'll meet him at the Pier okay?"

"Hey, Terry Bogard!" Dad yelled again, "You've got a cute ass, you know that!"

Terry just laughed out loud and brushed his behind with his hat.

"Dad, you should get a wife!"

"Nawww... she left me long time ago!"

"And I might skip some days off work 'kay!?"

"Sure! Terry," Dad smiled, "You work too fucking hard anyway, by the way, what do you have to do?"

"Uh, there's this thing coming up... Got to vent out some frustration."

Terry reached for an envelope that was in his hand and threw the crumpled mess behind him... It was read by the wind, the sand and those who cared about the ambitions and pains of these insignificant folk... and it said: "Master Terry Bogard is cordially invited to participate in the annual King of Fighters tournament of this year 1993..."

…

[If I can change at least ONE person's life in this world then my life would be worth it.]

…


	4. Silent Jealousy

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Despite all the changes, there are some things that stay constant in this world. One of these is indifference. True weakness - masquerading as strength. I hate it when anyone says "whatever". It's probably the one thing that rapidly and surely deteriorates this society, and the future.

Jaded by failure – one cannot help but stop there, and forget the things they once thought important and worth fighting for. One's self esteem is driven by his own confidence and faith, not by how he is accepted by his peers. If you are fair, tell the truth, and shoot straight then you have nothing to fear from the evil or the world around you.

Maybe that is one thing I regret. (I hate that word too). A man cannot conquer the world alone. It is sad to be betrayed by friends; or even, to make yourself believe you were betrayed just to make yourself feel 'right'.

It is wonderful to have friends, because you cannot conquer the world alone – lest you be driven to madness. Then, your only recourse is to be defeated by a great hero.

It is so sad to leave friends. True friends.

When I see an example of true, selfless friendship next to me, I cannot help but feel a sharp pain in my heart. I do not forgive crimes against this greatness. Hot water flows from my eyes. …and because - it is so very wonderful.

-08.12.04

**Chapter 4: Silent Jealousy**

You look up and see the towering height of Little Italy's skyscrapers. These man made dreams reach up high, hoping to one day reach the heavens, but most of the time, all saints lose sight of their dreams, and while refusing to look back at the earth, to where they once conceived their ambitions, the addictive high of success just keep them hanging, and much like their dreams, they will never reach heaven. Inevitably they too are doomed to fall from grace.

You mind scales the walls, admiring the splendor, scaling story by story of these brilliant glass temples, trying to imagine what hides behind each window... higher and higher.

"Damn it!" yells that seniour vice president as he sent his palm down on the table like a pile driver.

Andy Bogard had fought all his life and with his blood sweat and tears as he climbed the ranks to his position in the company now, but he is only plagued by anxiety, worry and hate. It was a board meeting and what was on the table were the excruciating demands of the labour union, and as usual, Andy was blamed for this. According to his superiors, the only reason the union had so much courage to put up such demands was because his brother was one of them. His superiors assumed that Andy was in league with these fools to put the company down for his own gains.

"I SAID..." Andy exclaimed, "I have NOTHING to do with Terry Bogard!"

Andy stormed out of the board meeting with the rest of the room in utter stupor. Andy headed back to his office, completely ignoring his jabbering secretary's long list of appointments he had for the day.

"Mr. Bogard, you..." His secretary uttered, only to be answered by the merciless slam of the door in front of her face.

Andy looked at the tall mirror by his closet, and examined himself. He ran his hands through his slicked back blonde hair, and brushed the dust from his khaki blazer. The took of his circular spectacles to wipe and put them back on as he straightened his tie.

"Damn it," Andy muttered. "One day I'll just put them all away..."

Andy turned to his desk and in a bloodshot stare, glared down at the framed picture on it. It was Terry and himself, younger, and in happier days. Terry was wearing his blue overalls and had a green cap on, while Andy wore a white oxford shirt and had a nice clean crew cut. Andy walked over and picked up the picture carefully and tried to stab it with his eyes. He let out a scream and cocked his hand back... After a moment, he let out a breath and calmly set the picture down on the desk once more...

"Why?" Andy thought, "Why am I not content? I've done everything better than you... I stayed in school, I got up this company, and I trained under the best teachers all my life... and you,... AND YOU... You FUCKING DRUNK BASTARD! You just ran away... I looked up to you and no one was there to protect me, to grow up with me. I wasn't independent like you. I had to learn the hard way, alone how to live with all the hate I had when our father died... So I fought... I climbed, tore shred and destroyed all my opponents, just to succeed in this life.. and be the strongest, most powerful man there is. When the time came for us to face Geese, the man who killed our father, you appeared... You had left me alone and came back to steal the glory that was rightfully mine!"

Andy's mind drifted and went black. He could see the swirling black take shape... and the shapes were blocks, then edgy, it shifted into machinery, and in an instant, there was dust, noise, heat and sweat. Andy looked up and he saw himself walking towards the construction site. A flashback of past regret...

"Look, it's Mr. Bogard," the construction workers muttered under their breath... "What's he doin ' here in a place like this?" they wondered in unison, while keeping themselves away from Andy's line of sight for fear of being struck down.

"TERRY!" Andy bellowed, "TERRY! Where the Fuck are you! I've had enough and I'm going to finish it now."

The supervisor, a stout bearded man came from the terrified crowd, and confronted Andy.

"What do you need Mr. Bogard?" Dad asked.

"Where is he, where is Terry?"

"I'm not so sure, I think he's taking a leak right now, maybe you can come back later..."

Andy stopped Dad from finishing his sentence and in one firm motion picked up Dad by the collar and left his feet dangling half a foot off the ground.

"Shut up you old pig!" Andy growled, his temples fuming and his eyes tensing. "You have nothing to do with our family affairs, so BUTT OUT!"

"Mr. Bogard," Dad insisted, "Let's calm down.."

"I've had enough of you..." Andy spat out as he cocked his fist back, about to strike at the terrified supervisor, helplessly hanging in the air.

"ANDY!" came a voice from behind the gathering crowd of construction workers...

The crowd of stunned construction workers abruptly looked behind them and like the red sea, the crowd parted, revealing a tall blond haired man who's face was covered by the shadows of his red cap.

"TEEE-EEERRR-RRRR-YYY..." Andy growled as the veins on his neck pumped.

Terry pulled up the tongue of his cap to expose the calm grin on his face.

"What do you want Andy? I haven't been skipping work you know. If you have something to say, say it to me, not at Dad."

"You bastard! Finally decided to come out of hiding huh?"

Andy dropped Dad and started to pace towards Terry, emitting a strong aura that made the other workers step back as if exposed to a repelling magnetic force.

"Terry, just what the fuck are you trying to prove by coming here?" Andy barked.

"I just want to find work Andy, I didn't know that you worked here too... I.."

"Shut up!" Andy interrupted. "Are you trying to bring me down? Do you know what I go through everyday... It's because of you the workers are like this they say to me! Your brother works down there, so they think they can pull a few strings... My job's on the line because those goddamn pigs blame their mistakes on me and say that this is all I plan I have to take over the company!"

Andy came over and yelled these words directly in front of Terry's face and pushed him back with both palms.

"Do you know.." Andy exclaimed, "Do you know how many asses I had to kiss, how many boots I had to lick, and how much blood sweat and tears I went through to get to this position... I'm not going to let you destroy that... I won't let you destroy this dream like you did the rest of my other dreams... "

"Andy," Terry said with calm visage, "You're taking this too seriously, I just came here for the rent money, not to do you any harm. I never intended to d..."

Terry's sentence was cut short by Andy's pitiful face. Andy's eyes loosened, his brows dropped, but his fists tightened and started to bleed.

"Ever since we were young... You had to be better didn't you? You wanted to be the best, and didn't care who you stepped on. I looked up to you, but you were never there for me, you were never there to notice how much I thought of you as my idol, my hero... And when Otosan (father) died, you left me... you ran away from home and left me. I was alone and afraid, and that anxiety ate me inside out. BUT NOW TERRY! but now, I, I am the hero! I am going to be the best!" Andy shouted as his eyes narrowed and his visage changed to insane anger. "I don't care how many dreams I destroy and how many lives I've trampled on! Nothing will ever oppose me again, and nothing will scare me again... From those days alone, weak and insecure... lonely; from those memories, I swore that I would become better, and if it means doing away with you, I will!"

Andy took of his blazer and threw it in the air. He flexed his arms and the sweat trickled down and ran around his firm muscles. Andy put his fists in front of him and started breathing in controlled gasps, and slowly, the wind started to blow and the dust from his feet rose and encircled his tense body. He spread his feet about a foot apart and rooted them to the ground in a fighting stance. Terry only smiled and said...

"Come on Andy, we don't have to do this... I'll just buy you a beer sometime tonight okay." Terry joked with a kind smile...

"Damn it, Terry," Andy yelled, "Face me or not, I'll kill you here and now."

Terry just turned away and walked back to his jackhammer to continue his work, but the infuriated Andy ran towards Terry, with his eyes milky and pupilless in pure hate. The ground tore up from beneath his feet and Dad ran between the two as it seemed apparent that Andy was going to cleave Terry in two from behind.

"Stop this!" Dad yelled as he used his body as a human shield, hands spread wide to get between the two.

"URUSEI JIJI! (Shut up, old man)" Andy roared, "If you want to die with him, then go ahead!" Andy Raised his elbow, and to Dad's horror, flames erupted from his forearm, wrapping his elbow in raging flames.

"ZANGYA KEN!" Andy called out, leaving the stunned supervisor unable to move away from pure fright.

An echoing thunderclap was heard, and dust whirlwinds flew from side to side. Andy looked on, and found the shaking supervisor on his bottom below him, unharmed... and when Andy looked up, there was a gloved hand holding his elbow back. The raging flames still burned and tried to eat through Terry's hand, but instead slithered through his fingers and around his wrist like wild snakes.

Andy, stunned, met Terry's eyes, to his horror, Terry's face had completely changed from calm and naive looking to grim and determined... Terry's brows tensed and his temples fumed.

…

"Maybe.. its just because you don't have the talent for it?"

Because - you are not Tensai. You are not gifted by heaven. Its as simple as that.

…

"Andy Bogard... If you have any problems with me, you take it out on my person face to face, but once you involve any of my friends, I swear, I will kill you without mercy!" Terry snarled. "So, you want to fight eh? Well you've done it now..."

"IKUZO, ANDY! (Let's go, Andy)" Terry bellowed, as he simply tossed Andy's elbow high and sidestepped aside...

"(Terry, I will finish you today...) K'sama wo bu' KOROSE!"

Andy recoiled from Terry's fling and he cocked both hands back, sending sweatdrops flying in all directions. Terry circled around Dad and pushed the stunned supervisor to the side to protect him from harm , and at the same time keeping Andy away from his colleagues.

Terry rushed towards Andy with his fist extended as this was his "BURN KNUCKLE", but Andy saw this and used his left arm to slap the punch away. In a complementing motion, he sent his other palm up towards Terry's belly, but all he hit was Terry's left arm which was covering his chest. Terry immediately transferred his center of gravity to his upper body and swung his hips around 360 degrees, and while using his left foot as a brace, he twisted and flung his right arm around and rushing down like a sledgehammer aimed for Andy's shoulders or maybe his head. Andy's teeth clenched as his eyeballs went off to the side spotting the deadly "CRACK SHOOT". Andy sidestepped to his left and watched Terry's foot, as if in slow motion to his trained eyes, drop in a steady hacking arc, then, in a twinkling, he put his hands on Terry's knee and used all his strength to follow the crack shoot and send it flying down in the hopes of making Terry lose balance. Andy's right hand pushed it all the way down and he used this momentum to swing around a full circle and send his left elbow towards Terry's chest. Something snapped in terry's reflexes and he sent his hands down on the ground as to get in a handstand position. Terry twisted 360 degrees with his hands and projected himself up spinning in the helicopter "LIGHTING TACKLE" attack. Andy, shocked at his brother's quick recovery broke from his "ZANGYA KEN" and dodged the attack to the side.

Andy collected himself at the side as Terry landed from his spinning move. Both of them, gasped for breath and with their hand up in defense tried to figure out their opponent's next move. The anxiety was biting at their heels much like a scene from a seedy old western movie.

"Why did you do it Terry? I had Geese in my hand then. I had trained all my life, and found and bought informants to tell me who had killed our father. I deserved to be the one to break him. You left the family on your own, and just appeared out of nowhere 'to collect' after all the work I had put in to find him. YOU SON OF A BITCH! You used me again you selfish bastard!"

"No, Andy, think again..." Terry said, "Who do you think is more selfish between the both of us?"

"WHAT?! YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Then at a drop of a hat the ground beneath Andy exploded, as a whirlwind enveloped him, sending his golden lock up into the air. Andy cocked his palms in front of him and his arms began to radiate a soft warm glow... the glow exploded to raging flames as Andy exclaimed "HISHYO KEN!" and a fireball flew towards terry... There was a blinding light and Terry put his hands to his eyes. The construction workers covered their eyes too, as the blast exploded and send shards of the iron construction fence all over the yard. Andy looked up in pride to gloat over his brother's dead body, but as the dust started to clear he saw a capped silhouette dash towards him...

"No, Impossible!" Andy exclaimed..

"ORA ORA ORA! (come on come on!)" Terry yelled apparently unhit by the HISHYO KEN. Before Andy could react Terry pulled his arm back and bellowed "POWER WAVE!" when he was just a little over a meter away from the stunned Andy.

"JESUS!" Andy yelled with his hands crossed in a blocking stance in front of his chest. "He's going to do the power wave so close to me... I'll die for sure.." Andy thought.

Andy braced himself for the coming shock, and tried to muster up courage to peep between his arms. He saw a flash of red approach him, but when it hit, it made a soft tapping sound and dropped to the floor.

Andy flung his hands aside and looked down on the ground.. Below his feet, he saw terry's red cap mocking him... "Shit!" Andy thought, "it was his cap.. it wasn't POWE..." Then in a moment he realized that Terry wasn't in front of him, and even if it was just for a brief second, Terry could gain the advantage. Andy spun around almost automatically and as expected, Terry was behind him. Andy in a panic, spun around and sent a backhand off to Terry's face.

It was silent for a while, and the workers toppled over each other to see who was the victor. Terry had his left palm parallel to his cheek, and in his hand was Andy's knuckles still shaking from the pressure. Terry's own knuckles on the other hand, was a inch away from Andy's belly. Andy fell back in shock and looked up to Terry in awe. Terry merely wiped his sweat with a towel, picked up his hat and trodded away back to his work. Andy sat on his bottom for a few more minute in total shock and disappointment, his earlier combed and dignified hair, now messed up and dirty from the rumble. Andy's mind faded and he say another version of himself... when they were kids... Andy was flat on his bottom and his face full of punch marks and his pants soiled. Terry was looming over him with an outstretched arm and a smile, but know all Andy could see was his brother's back walking away.

Andy's mind returned to his room, brooding over the picture on his desk...

Andy's secretary buzzed in on the intercom just in time to wake Andy from his trance. "Mr. Bogard, the floor manager, Mr. Riley called... it's concerning your request to keep an eye on Mr. Terry Bogard for you... Mr. Riley says that Terry will be taking a few days leave this month...

"Thank you Sally." Andy answered, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Andy looked at his pile of letters, and saw one quite distinct from the others. It had a blood red wax seal on it... Andy just smiled and brushed his hair back with his arms..."So, Terry, I guess I will be getting another chance at you..."

…

"Maybe.. its just because you don't have the talent for it?"

Because - you are not Tensai. You are not gifted by heaven. Its as simple as that.

…


	5. BOY LONDON

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 5: Boy London**

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU doing... You piece of shit!" Dick yelled, you trying to scare the business away!?" Dick pulled out a pole from the back of his trousers and hit the boy square in the jaw, and like the rag doll that he was, he flew to the corner of the room and his blood flowed like a waterfall down his eyes. He saw the stick in Dick's hand , it was red, red with his own blood, patches were fresh and the rest of it was flaky and dried up.

Then finally at that moment.

It was an entirely different feeling from before… the usual feeling of hurt and fear, cowering in the darkness, wanting to beg for forgiveness from his master. During those nights he was happy to be alive, beaten and weak he was happy to be alive and forgiven, because, to him he believed his life lay on a whim, and there was nothing worse than death.

But one night…

It was a night much like tonight. As he lay on the cold filthy floor, he said "God. Please, I don't want to die." Instead;

[He, the boy…]

…

Iori walked out casually out of Joe's Diner, duffel bag in hand with a bag of chips he so calmly 'persuaded' a terrified customer to 'give up'. Iori was slowly becoming aware of his awkwardness and his apparent inability to adapt to his new environment and had to find some time to recollect and plan out how he was going to survive in this world he had never been in before. Unknown to him there was an ominous shadow following him from behind... stealthily prancing, dancing within walks of people and hiding his aura from even Iori Yagami, the most feared of Yagami palace...

Iori succumbed to the growling sounds of his stomach and cursed his pride at the diner.

{One of these days my damn pride will kill me, my hunger will get the best of me...}

Iori was going to reach for his bell, which, in theory, was supposed to be strapped to the back of his belt, but when he felt for it, there was nothing...

{Eh?} Iori wondered... {Where's that damn bell}

Iori continued to frisk his butt and back but couldn't find what he was looking for.

{Oh shit!} Iori thought, {I'm not in Yagami palace anymore, I don't have any servants to call with my bell...}

A large sweat drop ran down Iori's temple, and vertical purple lines striped his forehead...

{Hara hetta na...(uuuuug... I'm hungry)} he groaned to himself...

Iori heard a crunch from his coat pocket and unveiled the pack of chips he got from Joe's Diner and examined it. All his life Iori had lived in Yagami palace and had never seen a pack of chips before. Although he did see commercials on TV of people eating them, he just couldn't bring himself to remember how they did it. Iori tried to poke a hole into the pack but failed miserably; then, he attempted to pull the entire thing apart, but he heard a faint crunch and decided that, that wasn't the way to do it. He stuck his palm out and in an instant purple flames danced on his fingertips, he tried to burn a hole slowly but it didn't work on the foil wrapping. In frustration Iori screamed and threw his fist up and sent it down hoping to crush the pack open, but before his fist made contact a girls voice called out...

"Hey, that's not the way to do it, silly!" The voice called out. "You need some help?"

"Eh? Nani... (what?)" Iori looked up slowly with a growl. "What do you want!" Iori shouted.

"Hi!" the girl said still smiling despite Iori's verbal attack.

Iori stepped back and was shocked that the girl seemed unfazed by his yell. This girl stood over him, she was dressed neatly in a sailor fuku, a girl's school uniform with a brown leather jacket over it. Her hair was dark brown, had little red streaks and came down to her shoulders, and she was holding a little kindergarden girl by the hand. Iori looked at the trembling child who hid behind the girl's skirt while peeking one eye out to him. Iori immediately pulled back and taken by surprise, tried his best to keep a calm face.

{eh? what's going on, it's only a kid, what am I so guilty about...}

"Hi! My name is Seirimi-chan." Seirimi said as she pointed to her nose, and this, she said as she slowly pulled the little girl from behind her, "This young lady is Miyuki."

{What the hell is wrong with this Seirimi?} Iori thought to himself, {Why the hell isn't she afraid of me?} Iori grumbled and his face became firm again.

"Look Bit..." Iori stammered as he looked down at Miyuki.. "Look girl, what is it that you want?!" Iori growled.

Miyuki hid behind Seirimi and started to cry a bit. Something snapped in Iori's mind as his chest began to hurt as she looked at Miyuki's teary eyes... Iori stopped at that instant and calmed down. He sat back and tried to calm the girl down by keeping his distance.

"Ano... (uh...)" Iori mumbled to Miyuki. "Stop it okay..." Iori tried to say without looking so concerned, as he looked as if he was annoyed.

Seirimi smiled to Iori still seemingly unfooled by Iori's tough image. Somehow Iori thought, she knew what was going on in Iori's head, was it his actions, was it the way he talked or was it his eyes.. Iori thought to himself, was there some flaw in Iori's image that made Seirimi unafraid of him, he wondered.

"Anyway, please don't worry about Miyuki-chan, she just is very shy and likes to cry a lot." Seirimi said as she waved her hands up and down in front of Iori. "Miyuki saw you with the bag of chips and wanted to help you. She was too shy to come here so I came with her.."

Suddenly an unbearable thunderclap echoed behind Iori and sweat drops raced down his face as his whole face blushed. Iori's eyes widened and it seemed that his face turned into a cartoony nature (Super Deformed FORM).

"Na... Na.. NANI!? (wh..wh..what the!?)" Iori exclaimed. "I.. I..."

"Oh, come on, it is okay, I assume you haven't eaten junk food before and I admire that in guys, it shows they have discipline or have self control you know..." Seirimi smiled.

"I ... I..." Iori stammered.

"Here here... Miyuki-chan, come help this nice gentleman and open the chips..."

"Un!" Miyuki-chan said happily as she smiled and wiped her tears.

"OI KORA! (HEY YOU!)" Iori yelled as he put one foot on the bench (still in Super Deformed FORM), with shark teeth protruding from his mouth. "I am talking here!"

At that moment a shadow emerged from the shadows of the trees and made the leaves rustle. Iori was still jabbering and moving his jaw like a bear trap, when a sudden thrash was heard and wood flew in all directions.

"GOT 'IM!" The shadow exclaimed...

When the dust cleared Iori was standing on the broken bench still yapping like a crazed maniac. BLINK BLINK went the shadowy figure as Iori seemed to pay no attention to his attack...

"'EY YOU!" The assailant yelled.

But his yell was in vain since Iori still paid no attention to him and continued to try to demoralize Seirimi.

{That's it!} The dark figure thought to himself with his fist clenched... {I will attack with all my might, and since he is not paying any attention, I will surely destroy him...}

In a blurr, it happened, his attack. There was a loud thunderclap and the figure smiled, but to his surprise, Iori was balancing on one foot dodging the attack, and all that he hit was the soil where Iori's foot was. In an instant, Iori's face became serious again and he turned around to face his attacker..

"What do you want, asshole?" Iori growled in a terrible tone that send shivers up the man's spine.

Iori analyzed the man from his feet up, he was wearing tight black leather pants, and had a spiked leather jacket over a white tank top, his hair was blonde and spiked except for the little rats's tail that was waving in the wind behind him.

"Finally got you attention 'ey?" He mocked. "You looked kind'a pathetic back there bloke, canna even open a packet of crisps!" he jeered. "Got the sudden urge to beat the mug out of you, you stupid Jap! I just can't stand spoiled people like you, funny in the head and crap! He he... you think you're so tough, I'm a gonna beat you silly."

The man pointed forward and turned to face Iori, "AND THEN..." he yelled, but to his surprise Iori was back in his Super Deformed body trying to pry the bag of chips from Miyuki's little hands. This time, it was the man's turn to turn Super Deformed and a crow flew behind him slowly, squawking, signifying his embarrassment since noone was paying any attention to him.

"HEY! I'M TALKING HERE!" He yelled as he attacked again.

In a twinkling there was a blurr as he jerked, and almost simultaneously, Iori, with his trained eye and sharp reflexes followed the dark blurry shadow that was approaching. Iori was ready to sidestep the attack, when he realized that it wasn't him that was the target but the pair of Seirimi and Miyuki. At an instant, Iori's legs tensed like they always did and prepared to leap towards his opponent to knock him unconscious, he was in no danger so he could easily do away with the guy in a flash, but somehow his legs wouldn't move, SHIT! Iori thought to himself...

The world moved in slow motion for Iori's quick movements, and he traced the blindingly fast shadow, for sure it would hit the two square...

"BAKAYARO! (IDIOTS!)" Iori shouted, "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Iori put his palm to Seirimi's chest but Seirmi suddenly wrapped her hand around Iori's wrist and twisted it somewhat... {What the hell?} Iori thought {How can she do that? She's guiding my thrust..?}

"YOU PERVERT!" Seirimi yelled as she tried to move Iori's hand away.

{You idiot...} Iori thought...

Iori snapped his wrist and palm and reversed the twist and Seirimi lost her grip. Iori then turned his hand upside down and positioned it to her belly instead.. {Okay...} Iori calculated, {This much pressure won't draw blood...}

"WHHUUUURRYAAA!" Iori growled, as he cocked his palm back a few millimeters and pushed forward.

The thrust from his palm sent a sudden pressure to Seirimi and she was pushed backwards and fell into the bushes. Seirimi yelled in fright and the leaves rustled...

{Wait..} Iori thought... {I only heard one person fall into the bushes... Which means...}

Iori thought right as Miyuki was still standing in the path of the attack unaware of the apparent danger. {How?} Iori tried to think, while seconds seemed to pass like minutes then hours for him... {SHIT!} Iori snapped, {She was holding my wrist with both hands and let go of the girl...} Iori grit his teeth and looked at Miyuki, his plan was foolproof Seirimi was supposed to be holding onto the girl and pull her back as well, if Iori tried the same approach with the girl Miyuki's bones would surely shatter no matter how softly Iori would do it, or worse it would kill her. There was no time so Iori jumped towards Miyuki grabbed her and tried to leap again... In a painful thud, something skimmed Iori's thigh, not much damage but it was still a close call. Miyuki, in Iori's arms couldn't help but watch in horror as the bag of chips fell slowly to the ground and exploded as the attack hit it squarely.

Time started to flow normally again and Seirimi stood up from the bushes infuriated, but when she saw the attacker, and Iori setting Miyuki down, she understood the matter at hand. Miyuki just stood there and it took a few seconds for it to register in her mind but when it did, she burst into tears...

"Eh!?" The man smiled, "So, will you take me serious..."

"U...RU...SAI! (SHUT UP!)" Iori interrupted. The man was taken by surprise and fell a step back. "What the FUCK do you want damn it..."

"Hey Hey! I just want to have a match with you, BAAABY!" The man mocked.

"Don't call me BABY, DICKHEAD!" Iori growled... Iori split his legs about 2 feet apart and the brown leather strap in between his legs snapped and tightened. He raised his left palm up in a claw and had his right low and defensive. He relaxed his wrists and started to move them smoothly in circles.

Iori placed all his weight on his hips, pushing his arms from his diaphragm. His hand would curl in relaxed and would push out taught in an eccentric smooth, then suddenly sporadic movement. His breathing began to slow, and with it the air around him seemed to grow dense, and the denser it got the smoother his movements became – cutting a hole in the cementitious air.

Then.. he stopped.

"Omae wo KOROSU, KISAMA! (I'll kill you , bastard!)" Iori threatened, "Sono mama SHINE! (Die just like that!)" The dust from Iori's feet started to rise and the wind started to encircle his aura... The leaves around him twisted turned, and flew around him.

Miyuki stopped crying and looked in awe at Iori, same went for Seirimi.

The man smiled... "My name is Jack White..." The man jeered, as he snapped a red blue and white bandanna around his head. It snapped and gripped onto his head and he tied it securely with one hand... "Pleased to make your acquaintance..." Jack hunched over, sticking his butt out and had his hands to his sides like an old time cowboy ready to go for his gun, and Iori just smirked at the ignorant looking fighting stance...

"IKUZO! (LET'S GO!)" Iori yelled, as he slouched down and like a tidal wave, went down and slithered up to attack his opponent, but suddenly Jack reached for something behind his jacket and it leapt out like a viper, and that something solid hit Iori's shoulder making Iori side step to see what sort of foul play was going on and cursed his carelessness.

Jack held a red staff, it was in three pieces and was held together with a long rope fixed in the middle of the tube. With a sudden jerk of his wrist, Jack made the sticks click and lock into a single long pole, and flipped it around his wrist as it were a pencil. It spun and spun and mocked Iori even further. Iori couldn't win from a distance and decided that he had to get in close to attack. He concentrated and his white shirt started to flutter like wings.

Jack twisted his staff and tried to break Iori's stance for he knew what Iori was trying to do, the staff hit Iori's chest. Iori's temples bulged and his teeth clenched in grimace and pain. The sudden shock to his midsection wanted to shut down Iori's entire system like a fuse, visibly weakening him at the knees. It took all his concentration to just stay focused at the attack at hand cause he couldn't afford to black out even for a second. He cursed himself for underestimating his opponent.

Jack didn't slow down. He rushed and started thrusting his staff to Iori's joints and pressure points, and it ended when Jack hit Iori's chest squarely and Iori spat blood.

Iori fell on one knee and wrapped his arms around his midsection, maintaining a taught pressure on his center of mass as if he could support his frame from the outside. Jack just laughed as the crimson ran down Iori's lip.

A slight grunt made Jack look again at his quarry and to his horror, Iori was still smiling, smiling a sinister smile that said I have won. Iori got up and wiped the blood on his thumb and licked it. Seirimi went BLINK BLINK... and blushed...

"DOSH'TA!" Iori taunted. An in a flash purple flames appeared in Iori's palm. He moved his fingers and shaped it into a ball before throwing the Yami Barai onto the ground like a skipping stone, and in a twinkle it raced on the ground like a dashing phantom set on engulfing Jack in it's fire.

"Oh, no no no..." Jack smiled as he threw his staff forward. It split into three pieces and hit the ground directly in front of Iori's DARK THRUST. It made the ground shatter and smothered the flames. "Gotcha!" Jack exclaimed, but he had realized his demise too late, as Iori ran towards him with his right hand extended hungry for his face. Jack couldn't recall his staff in time so he tensed his legs and leapt high into the air. Iori's hand grabbed thin air, so instinctively he leapt backwards and he bumped into something, he looked behind him and there was Seirimi. Iori's eyes widened...

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" Iori shouted... "You women are always getting in the way!"

Just then something snapped in Iori's mind as he heard a whistling sound, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Jack coming down twirling his pole... screeching.

{TEME... (bitch...)} Iori thought. {3 seconds...} he calculated as he just stood still in front of Seirimi. Calm and emotionless. Seirimi wondered what was going on and suddenly a thud and a crack was heard as Jack's stick hit Iori's back.

"..." Seirimi yelled, realizing she didn't know the man's name...

"JUST GET AWAY!" Iori yelled as he started to get up.

Jack just smiled and held his pole in front of him in defense.

"Heh, you're not strong at all... Who cares about the woman, I don't want you to hold back... I want to know just how strong you really are.. COME ON!" Jack called... "If you don't maybe I can do you a favour and get rid of the kid too, ey?"

At that moment, Iori's eyes, started to twitch, and his hair flew... "ONORE (BASTARD)…"

[Fine, I will attack you with all my strength...]

"Ano... (uhm...)" Seirimi tried to come closer, and tried to wipe the blood from Iori's mouth, but she abruptly stepped back as flames started to bite her hands when she got too close...

"Okay!" I will attack you with all my power!" Jack called... Jack spun his staff around and around, behind him, to the side, behind his neck twisting it and turning it around his wrists and under his arms, and to Seirimi's horror, the crimson staff blurred in the blinding speed.

The staff cut through the air and whistled a sweet tune. With blinding speed the red flashes warped the colours and images around Jack, then when the staff could twirl no faster, it did uninstinctively seemed to become slower, leaving a trail of red afterimages in its path. Then, the twisted, blurred images turned to flames. "Eat this...!" Jack called as he released the ring of fire. The fire engulfed Iori and Jack just laughed...

Seirimi was overcome with guilt, because of her Iori lost and could be dead, no normal person could survive such an incredible attack.

Jack thought to himself {You're not so tough...} as he remembered an earlier conversation. There was a blonde haired man who had his hair pulled back and wore a tie and business suit.

"Remember, you're job is to protect him at all costs. His father is one of the most powerful Yakuza lords there is, and he came to me for help. He wants his son to be protected at all costs and wanted to hire a bodyguard. I want you to do it." The towering figure instructed him. "With this he will owe me a favour, and a favour from the great Yagami is like a wish from GOD... do you realize that, but if we fail, it will mean our deaths… Do you understand!"

"But Geese," He said, "I don't want to baby-sit some spoiled brat who had a silver spoon up ass since birth... you know me better than that! All those rich people know is to manipulate others and control them. I don't want to cover his ass in some tournament. He probably can't even fight for himself."

"SHUT UP!" Geese said. "You know better than to go against my wishes you piece of trash." Geese pushed the kneeling man to the wall and his staff flew to the other end of the dark office. Geese tugged him from the collar of his jacket and glared at him like a rabid animal. Don't forget who carried your sorry English ass off the gutter when you were a child.. heh, you were nothing but a petty thief back then. I trained you, taught you how to live, how to survive, lift your sorry ass from the shit hole you were living in. Without me you would still be eating rats at that back alley. Your body and soul belongs to me, don't you forget that!"

Geese kicked him in the gut and blood started to pour out of his mouth. He tried to maintain his consciousness and try to crawl to Geese.

"I am sorry, Geese, I am sorry, Geese..." He wheezed frantically, as he tried to hug Geese's shins shamelessly.

"HUMPH!" Geese smirked. "Like the dog you are. Don't you forget that you owe your life to ME!"

ME... those words echoed in Jacks head, it ravaged and exploded, engulfed his entire being - while at that time blood was dripping down from his mouth and nose like a faucet. He could see himself, as a child, in the alleyways, he would scavenge for food and shelter, he had no mother or father that he knew, a bastard child abandoned because of something that went wrong in some unknown brothel one dark night, around him were curses, yells, Rich people… He knew, who treated him like trash and mocked him. Throwing leftovers to his face which he would gladly eat.

And the pimps would take advantage of him too, they would sell him to lecherous old men, pedophiles who enjoyed violating his body, but he was soon immune to the pain, and would do anything for food.

And the rich men's children would be no different, they would treat him like a rag doll and beat him with sticks... They would beat him and beat him mercilessly and he would cower and cover himself in the gutters as he whimpered, and before he lost his consciousness he would see the sticks stained with his own blood, red, shining, warm, the red sticks that drove him insane.

Then one night it was the same he guessed, he would be sold as meat again to some perverted millionaire, those who would buy happiness from others' pain, who's drug was to see someone else suffer. When the room opened he saw a man in a black business suit, a blonde man who had his hair slicked back. The pimp left him and the man asked him to sit on the bed next to him. He said his name was Geese, Geese Howard. Jack stood up and started to undress, and stared blankly at Geese, like a soulless machine.

Geese looked at his chest and back and saw burns, cuts and gashes. "No No," Geese said, "It's not like that, I have come to take you away..." Geese got his shirt and put it on Jack once more.

Jack who was about 11 years old screamed out... "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT OLD MAN!" Jack yelled. "Don't toy with me, just get it over with, STICK YOURSELF INTO ME and get it over with, leave your FUCKING bookmark." Jack cried... "I don't mind, but please.. please don't deceive me..."

"No No, I..." Geese tried to reason...

At that moment the door swung open and Dick, Jack's pimp, stormed into the room...

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU doing... You piece of shit!" Dick yelled, you trying to scare the business away!?" Dick pulled out a pole from the back of his trousers and hit Jack square in the jaw. Jack flew to the corner of the room and his blood flowed like a waterfall down his eyes. He saw the stick in Dick's hand , it was red, red with his own blood, patches were fresh and the rest of it was flaky and dried up.

The boy's shaky voice cracked. His whimpering plea and panicking heartbeat became ragged, fast paced, the thumping noises in his head rung a static shredding noise between his ears. There was nothing he could do, and finally the deafening noise became worse than the impending pain and fear of death.

He lost all composure and started laughing, bellowing, hollering; if only to drown out the noise and pressure in his cranium... Dick, got scared for once, he was the God in that hell house of a brothel, and he had never known fear before - he rushed at Jack and hit him in the cheek. Jack's face swung to the side, stopped and slowly he turned around, his face was blue and black and red all over, but he just smiled an insane yet calm grin. Dick proceeded to beat the rest of his body, but Jack just stood there, visibly twitching from the sheer force and impact of the blows, but held his stature unwavering. He had taken worse beatings and it is remarkable how the human body under so much pressure and exposure can adapt. Jack could no longer feel any pain. Dick screeched out in horror as the bleeding mess walked towards him smiling.

Dick raised the pole up and swung it down with all his might, but he made the mistake of closing his eyes. Jack merely limped to the side and effectively, and unknowingly dodged the blow and with a pair of scissors in hand, crucified dick's wrist through to and past the bone.

Tonight fear was replaced. It is sad that only through SUFFERING can we find salvation. Tonight instead, he didn't say "Please, please, I don't want to die."

Dick yelled for help, but noone could hear him, in his hell house there were moans and screams, screams of pleasure and pain, and noone would care about yet another cry for help, it's just another whore having fun someone would think. Dick shivered in the corner, and without a blink, Jack slashed both of Dick's legs. He shivered and pleaded Geese to help him, but all that Geese could do was watch in both horror and amazement at Jack's unwavering visage.

Jack calmly beat Dick to death with the stick left and right, until his brains spilled on the floor. Jack's master lay beneath his feet shaking erratically from shock. He didn't even know he was already dead. Then finally, one last crunch was what finished the act – the red stick had driven Dick's nose into his body and as quickly as it started the wiggling fish lay still. As if nothing had transpired, Jack made his slow way to the side, cowered in a corner and started hugging the pole, stroking it and putting his cheek against it.

Geese approached him slowly and Jack got up. He ran towards Geese, but Geese was prepared. He put his arm under Jack's wrist and blocked the hack, and his hand slithered around Jack's wrist and when he was in an arm lock grabbed the pole. Jack realizing he was overpowered, gave up and knelt on the floor. Geese threw the stick aside.

"You are not like the rest... Come, I will give you a new home and a new life..." Geese said.

Jack cried and slowly made his way to this man, his hand were all bloody and he wrapped him arms around Geese. Jack cried in joy that finally all his pain and suffering will finally be over, for a God has come for him...

It was back to the park and Jack looked at his pole and remembered... As the fires died down he thought to himself, {Geese, I will always remain faithful to you... I owe you my body and soul..., but I cannot, I cannot forgive a rich man's son, I will not let them abuse me ever again, and before I serve him as a bodyguard, he has to prove to me that he can fight for himself... "Heh", but he was weak after all... I am sorry Geese, I have been unfaithful, when I return I will accept any punishment...} Jack turned around, and started to walk away.

"Wait! JACK WHITE!" a voice came. I challenge you!

"Eh?" Jack smiled as Seirimi confronted him. "YOU?! HA KYAH! Don't make me laugh..."

Jack shot his pole and it split into three pieces and dove to Seirimi, Seirimi could only cross her arms to wait for the blow, but then there was a sudden rush, pain, no it was heat, purple flames hit the pole from the side and singed the edge of Seirimi's skirt.

"Jyamada to ittandarou oi onna. I said get out of my way!" came a boom from behind... It was Iori, hand in his pocket and two of his fingers from his other hand in his mouth.

{IMPOSSIBLE!} Jack thought, he dodged my blow!

"BAKAYARO! (IDIOT)" Iori called as he walked towards Jack, don't you underestimate IORI YAGAMI... "

Seirimi's eyes widened {Iori.. Yagami...?}

"You PIG!" Jack yelled, "I'll finish you off this time." but before he could even lift his staff, purple flames came after him, he had no time to block the onslaught, all he could do was dodge them. To his horror, while Jack was preoccupied with the purple fiery monster, Iori raced in, followed his DARK THRUST like quicksilver, and closed the distance between them - in a moment Iori was right in front of him, smiling...

The world turned black and everything stopped; Naked in front of a serpent.

Jack started to sweat in fear, trembled all over. Iori put his finger tips on Jack's bare belly and started to move it sweetly, up and then down...

"How does it feel?" Iori sneered... "The feeling of fear as it races through your body... Just like the feeling of a young girl in love..." Iori reached down and put his mouth next to Jack's ear and whispered sweetly... "Asobi wo Owari da... (the game is over)"

Jack felt a sharp feeling, and when he looked down, he saw that his belly was bleeding, and as Iori traced his fingers up slowly the cuts got longer and longer. What is he doing? How is he doing this Jack thought in horror. It wasn't nails, it wasn't a blade, it was just Iori's fingertips. Could it be? Jack thought... It's the bludgeon slash... There is an old technique, a legend of how trained individuals could move so fast and make their fingertips vibrate in a blinding whirr, that the pressure would tear skin, and then Jack knew that this 'rich man's son' was no weakling, and his lust for revenge had finally caught up with him...

Iori acted, stabbing and slashing. His soft fingertips would pass and caress Jack's flesh as if driven by wicked foreplay. At first Jack would feel nothing, but then his skin would tear open and blood would spray out, and right after, purple flames would engulf it and cauterize the wound, it was sickening how the wound would open and close in an instant, only to be cut once again, and when Jack was at the brink of exhaustion, Iori crossed his wrists, wrapped it around Jack's neck and lifted him up"

Oh the sweet ecstasy as he drove his fingers into the sides of Jack's neck, tickling his arteries.

"Sayonara... gaijin-san (good bye, Mr. Englishman)" Iori jeered.

"Mai... Maiden ... Masher..." Jack whimpered.

"BOOM!" Iori yelled and dropped Jack on the floor... Iori exploded into a fit of laughter and walked back to Miyuki...

"Why?" Jack called out, at the edge of consciousness.

"Why? Because I don't want to kill you.. BILLY CANE" Iori smiled.

{WHAT?! He knew who I was...}

"Remember to introduce yourself first Billy," Geese said back then, "He doesn't know who you are, just knows that his father hired a bodyguard to protect him..."

{He knew...} Billy thought {All this time I didn't want to divulge my identity so he would fight for real... If he knew who I was he would hold back or even not fight knowing that I was his bodyguard... Yet, he held back, if this were a real fight... He ... he would've killed me!}

Billy picked up his pole and used it as a brace to set him up. {Why... did he spare me...} "Was it your father? Was this why you didn't kill me? If I had won, I would've killed you! I hate spoiled brats..." Billy pathetically yelled, a statement, or maybe a question. To Iori and maybe, to himself.

"Naw, I just like you that is all... HA HA HAHA HAA!" Iori said and smirked.

{What kind of man are you, Iori Yagami? I had once thought all rich men were selfish, power-hungry and immoral... but you, you are different... Ever since those days, alone and hungry, I had no regrets when I killed... and when I was with Geese, he trained me and removed all form of emotion within me, murder meant nothing...} Billy thought... But this once, just this once, he didn't know exactly why, he didn't want to kill this one man...

Seirimi put her hands on her chest relieved that Iori was safe... Iori walked towards her and she started to blush. She thought of her plan of attack, would she hug him, or say sorry then cry, or do all three at once... YES Seirimi thought, all at once, and he can't resist, the moment is perfect... "Iori!..." she started, but the stopped midway as she looked down...

"Do you wanna cookie? Iori-san?" Miyuki offered... On her tiptoes trying to reach Iori's mouth.

"Uz! Arigato (thanks)!" Iori mumbled as he devoured the cookie whole...

Seirimi just fell apart as she saw Miyuki jump up and kiss Iori on the cheek...

…

Instead, he said "I… WILL… KILL… YOU. I SWEAR."

- and then, as it was in the beginning, God had finally heard his plea.


	6. Formula For Love in the Modern World

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

To [love]; or to [be] loved, more than you love your own self. Oh! What a wonderful feeling it is indeed. This is why, in some ways, dogs are superior to men.

-08.28.04

**Chapter 6: Formula for love in the modern world…**

"I love her..." the cloaked figure pleaded.

"So you do... but you have to prove yourself worthy first." The wise master replied, his back facing the servant. "I can't have an outsider, moreover, a common person to marry into my family." Yoshiki Kusanagi exclaimed.

"I will do anything... anything you ask... just name it Kusanagi-sama... (Lord Kusanagi)," said the figure hiding in the shadows. "ANYTHING! Anything at all, just for her sake..."

"Very well, if you want to have my daughter, then do me this 'favour'..." Yoshiki Kusanagi sneered as he flashed a sly smile... "Kill him... Kill Iori Yagami and if his father gets in the way, do away with him as well..."

The Yakuza, a feared, almost legendary organization. Some say they are nothing but big time thieves, others say that they are honourable individuals who go against the government, in the hopes of setting the people free from their dictatorial authourity. However you might see them, there is one evident fact. They have been around for as long as the individuals who remember them do.

Shadowy and mysterious, they even fight wars amongst themselves. True, the world fights wars with new rules now... Through politics and other such seemingly harmless means, and now instead of bullets and blades, warriors use paper, words and money. The Yakuza have adapted to this change in society, but have not completely forgotten about ancient means of war, through assassination, and this is why the Ninja still exist in this modern world, to fight the selfish wars these so called criminals lead.

This man, who stood before Yoshiki Kusanagi; he is a ninja, an individual who trained since birth in the Ninja ideals... Discipline, Loyalty, Honour, and Faith in one's physical ability. Unfortunately he had one downfall... He has not been exposed to the modern world, and interacted with the characters who play this deadly game of chess. Since birth he had been secluded in the mountains as well as his fellow brothers who studied under the deadly art of invisibility. Those were the only people he knew, he had the false comfort that all people were like this... Honourable, good hearted, disciplined, and full if hope and desire.

As a Ninja, he had been trained under harsh conditions, so that he could overcome the weaknesses of his own human body, after 17 years, he had learned to conquer 'insignificant' weaknesses such as hunger, fatigue, and other such human inhibitions. However he is still a human, a man at that. No matter how many times he gambled his life, dodging shuriken (throwing stars), dashing through mine fields, and leaping from one tree to another, he cannot conquer one flaw in human nature. Love. Nothing in this world can ever deprive or erase this emotion from your being. There is always one true love that can either make you a man or will utterly destroy you.

"Eiji Kisaragi... If you can kill both Iori Yagami and his father, I will grant you your worldly wish... such is the true power of a Yakuza." bellowed Yoshiki Kusanagi. "Here take two of my finest Ninja guards, I am not a fool, and I know that you alone cannot hope to survive in the Yagami stronghold."

With that, Eiji's silhouette became a blur and he was gone. Kusanagi snapped his fingers and suddenly two shadows dropped in an instant from the beams on the ceiling.

"Accompany him, and do not fail me, the both of you. Mikaido, Masa... Go..." Kusanagi pointed outwards and with his leave, the two ninja guards disappeared into the dark moonlit night.

...

The wind was cool and sweet smelling, the grass waved as if they were alive and the moonlight gave them the distinct silvery glow made them radiate with beauty. Occasionally a blade of grass would fly up, but you could see no one, only a sudden gush of wind, but if you had a trained eye and looked very closely, you could barely see faint shadows twitching in the moonlight, appearing, only for a moment, then disappearing as quick as the mirage took view. Three ninja guards moving as swiftly as shadows in the night... Doing what they were trained for, the only PURPOSE of their existence... Discipline and loyalty, but something else was driving Eiji Kisaragi. He had fallen in love with Kaori Kusanagi, daughter of Yakuza god Yoshiki Kusanagi, and would do anything physically conceivable to win her father's blessing. For generations the Kusanagi and Yagami clans have been at war. Neither ever gaining the upper hand. Up until it struck them. Destroying another clan all at once would take forever, may it be through ancient warfare, or modern political methods, and also, assassinating a mafia god is almost as easy as threading a needle with blind eyes. So they thought, why not kill the next generations, and maybe if they did away with the future Yakuza god, then maybe the clan would die away.

{Iori Yagami... Who is this man? I wonder if I am powerful enough to defeat him...} Eiji was a simple man who lived his life in the mountains and didn't know such tactics the Yakuza play. He had only one goal, to prove his love by defeating Iori Yagami, and the situation arose, his father as well.

And behind him, the two Ninja guards Kusanagi had sent with him followed on...

...

Yagami Palace, isolated from the rest of Japan, hidden in the high mountains. It was located in a rural area, away from civilization. For generations it has withstood numerous wars and showed of nicks and cracks in its walls to prove it. Climbing up the mountain was no difficult feat for the three Ninja guards, it was as simple as jumping from one building to another. The way they leapt great distances took then as much effort as a walk in the park to any everyday individual. The first obstacle was the moat, at least there were no electric fences, but undoubtedly there were numerous inside. Yakuza palaces have shunned away modernization, and they think it unhonourable to rely on such technology to guard their strongholds, they prefer to use the traditional archers and Ninja guards.

As if on queue, a whiz came through the air, Eiji's trained senses kicked in as if by reflex and he sent his arm up to cover his neck. In a twinkling, there were 5 blunt thuds and when he looked at his arm he saw 5 steel darts. Darts that were as big as pencils and had red silk tails on them.

"Five!" Eiji whipered as forcefully as he could, and in a blinding instant, five thuds were heard... either falling as leaves rustled or with a loud splash. The two ninja guards walked next to him and knelt down.

"Daijyobu kai (are you all right?) Check your arm, the darts were probably poisoned..." Mikaido whispered in a grim tone.

Eiji unwrapped the bandages on his arm and wrist and unveiled a wooden block with five spikes sticking into it.

"Daijyobu desu... (I am fine)" Eiji said. "They all hit the wood."

Without words, Masa offered another wooden block with a shrug. "Hurry up, we don't have much time, they probably know we are here already. But if we are lucky, they will underestimate us and did not bother to call for reinforcements..."

"Uz (okay).." Eiji confirmed, as he nodded his head.

Masa licked his bloody fingers and threw the severed Ninja guard's head over his shoulder...

"Heh, Yagami guards are so arrogant, I see nothing has changed since I was one..." Masa smiled.

The wall was easy to scale, the occasional arrow gave them some trouble but then they were prepared for this. The Yagami Ninja guards they assumed, were arrogant and overconfident. According to their knowledge, Yagami Ninja guards would not inform their superiors of intruders because such action just bothers their masters and it was seen as an act of weakness, and most of the time the Guard who spoke of bad news was executed. This, the trio thought could make their mission easier.

Once over the wall, they checked their wounds and pulled out the wayward dart or arrow that they failed to dodge while scaling the wall. The first wave of Ninja guards came, a dozen of them. Eiji, Masa and Mikaido were prepared, and what ensued was a magnificent battle. It was as if you were watching a ballet. The shadows played the role of the dancers, so gracefully leaping, spinning and prancing. In instances, could see eyes in the darkness as a dancer dashed across the moonlight. Eyes that showed grim discipline and determination. There was the sudden sound of rushing wind and the sound of metal kissing. When their skills failed them the steel would drink blood and radiate with the warm crimson, but the Ninja guard would not call out or scream in pain, for fear that his weakness would endanger his brothers who's position would be exposed.

A phantom would fly across and glints of light flew through the air. Moving as one soul, one mind and body, the trio cleaved through the barrage of Yagami guards. Masa being one of them one time in his life knew that the Yagami Ninja guards were the most feared assassins in Japan, but they were conceited bastards and were too overconfident, unlike the Kusanagi guards who would work as teams, the Yagami guards would never resort to such 'weak willed methods' and attacked chaotically as individuals. Slowly the Kusanagi Ninjas took down the wave, and stood in a moment to admire their work and pray for the souls of their enemies who neither hated them nor wanted to kill them for sport, it was all duty, the loyalty that was their downfall. Eiji looked on, seemingly unfazed by the pile of bodies scattered over the courtyard and decorated the walls with blood. Mikaido took the time to lay them on their backs, and cross their enemies' arms in their final rest, and Masa cried softly as he unveiled their masks one by one and burst into tears when he recognized an old friend that he had killed in the line of duty.

{Why,} Masa thought to himslef... {I left this damn place because I knew it was evil, and that evil destroyed us slowly. Our sacred ideals were corrupted by the Yagamis... but I guess this is my punishment from the gods for breaking my word of honour, for breaking my loyalty to Yagami... Will I have to live with the guilt and the blood of my friends soiling my hands.}

Eiji seemingly confused with their actions came over and put his hand over Masa's shoulder.

"Let's go..." Eiji said quite forcefully, "We don't have much time and we have to do away with Iori before sunrise. We can't waste our time here."

Masa snapped and collared Eiji as he rose. "What the FUCK do you think you are you SON OF A BITCH!" Masa whispered in an angry tone. "You don't understand what it feels to kill your own brothers... People you laughed, got drunk with, shared your pleasures and pains with. What are you? Some animal?! Don't you have any speck of remorse in you?"

Eiji slithered both arms under Masa's arms and broke the hold on his collar. "I have my own reasons for doing this. Do not forget that a Ninja's code of loyalty supercedes all else, and if a ninja cannot even accomplish that, then you are not even qualified to become Shinobi (Ninja)."

Masa's eyes narrowed and the veins in his temples fumed, as he pulled out his katana (sword) from it's home on his back and slashed at Eiji's throat, there was a glint of light and a ring of steel. As their eyes focused in a matter of less than a second, Eiji saw Mikaido's blade up at Eiji's throat blocking Masa's katana, and his left hand held firmly onto Eiji's, guiding Eiji's own already exposed blade from Masa's intestines.

"There is no need to do this," Mikaido said calmly. "We all have our own ideals, and we will have to settle our differences later, but Eiji is right, a Ninja's code is bound in Loyalty. You should know that most of all MASA."

Masa only grunted and resheathed his katana back, and Mikaido guided Eiji's back in turn. The trio disappeared and appeared on a rooftop to tend to their wounds.

...

"Why are you doing this Kisaragi?" Mikaido asked Eiji.

"For love... I fell in love with Kusanagi's daughter and I would do anything for her..."

"You do realize that Kusanagi would not easily let an outsider take his daughter, more less a lowly Ninja guard like ourselves." Mikaido reasoned. "He won't let you get away with it. Come on, my family has been serving Kusanagi for generations, and I know these things... There is still a chance, find another lover, finish your loyalty by doing one last admirable mission. If you kill Iori you will surely gain the admiration of Kusanagi and he may even grant you your freedom. But please don't go and chase these silly dreams."

"That's what makes men weak I guess..." Eiji muttered, as he slowly dropped to a squat by Mikaido, leaving the volatile brute, Masa to his own devices wrapping his giant forearms by a tree in a secluded edge of the complex. "You are calm and calculating, Mikaido. But no matter how much training I undergo I cannot deny this feeling in my heart. Remember that loyalty drives you and I feel the same way. Loyalty above all else, but for once, I just want to do something I want, I want to believe in my dreams, and do not want to spend my whole life making my masters' wishes come true. Just this once, I want to prove that I am a human, and have dreams of my own."

"Loyalty you say?" Masa finally uttered. "You are a strange Ninja guard Eiji... Faithful and Loyal yet a dreamer as well. I am sure Mikaido envies you, but he is too practical to think of such dreams,"

"and I on the other hand have been a rebel all your life?" Mikaido couldn't help but jeer.

"I am tired of being a Ninja guard," Masa continued. "…and Kusanagi gave me one more mission, this one, if I accomplish this he said; If I can finish this one mission and accomplish killing Iori I can be granted my freedom. I know that I am very important to them, since I was once a Yagami guard, and they question me, they are afraid I might join another clan, and divulge their secrets. I would be happy to become a farmer in the Kusanagi fields. I am tired of killing."

"A farmer you say?..." Eiji scoffed at the rather preposterous and peonic idea... "I just want to live forever with Kaori Kusanagi and it doesn't really matter what happens... or WHO I have to fight."

Masa smiled a bit under his mask, and his eyes radiated a soft glow for a moment. Just a moment.

In an instant, an arrow sliced through the air and was headed towards Eiji's forehead. Mikaido was around 10 meters away, and he knew from Eiji's actions that he was too engrossed with his fantasies to ever dodge the blow. In a blinding motion he reached for a throwing star and threw it towards the arrow. The world slowed down as Mikaido saw the Shuriken (star) spin, and to his horror, it missed the arrow, by only a few millimeters. Mikaido's eyes widened in shock as the arrow bit flesh. Masa was standing in front of Eiji as the arrow shiverred in Masa's shoulder. Eiji quickly grabbed the arrow and pulled it out as if it was a speck of dust and as the arrow exploded into a fountain blood in all directions as it tore flesh, Masa couldn't help but call out softly.

Two rooftops away, a cloaked Ninja guard stood with an empty crossbow in his hands.

"So, it's the traitor himself... HAHA! It looks as if your new master sent you back to your grave."

"MAKOTO! You... damn you! Why did you speak, now I know who you are... I cannot fight you this way." Masa called.

"Idiot, it was you who's the blabbermouth. I have watched your party since you scaled the wall, and when you called out when he pulled the arrow free, I knew it was you for sure... Never mind, I will have no regrets when I kill you. This is for all the friends you BETRAYED you bastard. You left us and now you came back to kill us all. URAGIRIMONO! Traitor!"

"Teme.. You son of a bitch!" Mikaido called out as loud as he dared to and threw 5 Shuriken (stars) almost simultaneously. Makoto merely pulled out his blade to deflect the first 3 then stuck out his forearm to catch the last 2. Mikaido just stood in awe, as he knew this Ninja was not a simple foot soldier unlike the earlier ones they encountered. "Masa never wanted to betray you. The man who killed your brothers isn't him, but Kusanagi. You should know more than anything what a loyal Ninja has to go through."

"Shut up!" Makoto yelled. "I do NOT care, all I want is compensation, revenge and blood for my comrades."

"Soyuunara, ore ga, kisama no aite da. Then you will fight me!" Mikaido called, as he stood and with a flick of his wrist drew out more of his shuriken (stars) clipped between his five fingers like a hand of cards. As he stood, Masa grabbed on to his arm and pulled him down.

"No, this is my fight... The gods' plans have come full circle and their punishment for me has come... I have to defend my honour and atone for my sins..." Masa said calmly. "Mikaodo, if I do not make it out alive, I want you to know that I have loved you more than I would have my own brother. He pulled Mikaido's masked face towards his and kissed his lips and remembered the feeling of his cloth mask on his own. NOW GO! Both of you..."

"Un.." Eiji said as he grabbed Mikaido by the waist.

"MASA! You bastard! Don't do this!" Mikaido yelled with an open, outstreched palm.

Masa refused to turn around and arched his spine backwards proudly and defiantly. "Humph, didn't I tell you I was tired of killing? Maybe this way my soul can rest easy in [heaven]." Masa muttered out as the images of Eiji and Mikaido diappeared into the shadows.

In heaven we will be waiting, and you will know the sound of ultimate sacrifice.

Masa pulled off his mask and cloth that covered his hair. It was dark brown and in spikes he had a firm face and his eyes had long scars racing down them. He ripped off his shirt and took off all the peices of wood on his body and threw all his spiked balls and shuriken on the courtyard. Decorating the grass with spikes which would easily immobilize an individual who dashed through them.

"Take off your mask... We have nothing to hide... Let me see your face and your eyes. Fight like a fucking man." Masa called.

"Very well," Makoto answered. He pulled off his mask and shirt and did the same and studded the courtyard with his own weapons. The pair pulled out their swords and it glistened in the moonlight.

There was no more talk.

The only dialogue would be the song of metal on metal, and the argument would be settled with death. One second they were there, and in another all that was left was the glowing sweat that had been in place of their bodies. The pair moved in perfect unison and harmony. Running like squirrels on the rooftop, jumping up and over obstacles, all the while staring each other down, and their steel would resonate and sing out a lovely ballad. The pair reached the end of the roof and leapt off. They took care not to drop all the way to the ground or their feet would be torn to shreds. Even in mid-flight their swords danced. Masa arched his shoulders back and he braced his heels on the wall behind him and he used his momentum to send him to the opposite wall and then repeated the action back. Like a rubber ball he bounced back and forth on the parallel walls and he slowly made his way up the rooftop. Makoto on the other hand used his fingers to grab hold of the stone and slowed his descent, he then sent his feet perpendicular to the wall and to Masa's admiration, started to run up. With one more leap, Masa was on the roof and Makoto followed suit. Tirelessly the two slashed at each other mercilessly, and they slashed so swiftly that the cut on their bodies opened and dripped blood tens of seconds after it was made. Suddenly there was a shrill whistle from somewhere, and Masa knew that Ninja guards were alerted and would soon scatter the whole complex, and discover them all. Masa was going to take the fight elsewhere but as he prepared to leap to the next roof, an arrow buried itself in the back and he fell like a lead weight down towards the ground. The pain ran throughout Masa's body, but he bit his lip, and tried with all his might to stand. Makoto scaled down the wall and walked calmly towards him making sure not to act so hasty as to step on the spikes. Behind him a dozen archers came.

"Such a good fight, but I grow weary, and I am sure Yagami-sama is too, so I will end it for all of you." Makoto said apologetically..

"Humph, this sucks..." Masa smiled, before he bellowed an echoing primal scream that resonated through out the complex.

"You bast..." Makoto stuttered...

...

Eiji and Mikaido looked behind them as they ran to the main complex.

"Mikaido, what the hell is he doing... He's gone insane!" Eiji said.

Mikaido only closed his eyes in sadness... "He isn't... Have you wondered why we haven't met any Ninja Guards? It is because he is drawing their attention. He's sacrificing himself for our sake."

"Masa..." Eiji whispered...

Eiji and Mikaido knelt for a moment in the bushes outside the protective walls of the main complex.

…

"Mikaido, I always wondered. Your mask isn't like a normal Ninja's. Your hair is sticking out. Did you cut the top of your mask on purpose?" Eiji asked.

"Heh, this?" Mikaido pointed to his hair that was exposed from the top of his mask.

"I've been loyal all my life, but like you said, we're all human... I have a rebellious streak in me, and this is the only way I can express it. But what the hell, we've come too far, let's not waste Masa's sacrifice and kill that pig, Iori."

A barrage of arrows and darts attacked the pair, and without movement, the weapons tore through cloth, and if you looked at it closely, it was just logs wrapped in cloth... an ancient Ninja technique. The two looked back and forth to spot their assailant, but there was nothing to be seen.

"Let's get out of here..." Eiji said as he recklessly got up from the bushes.

"You idiot!" Mikaido called, but it was too late and all that Mikaido could do was take the berrage of darts square on his back.

"Mikaido..." Eiji said as he caught him from falling.

"Fuck, you're reckless, Eiji, heheh..." Mikaido smiled, "I guess it must be your youth, but I envy you for that. Just go, I willl draw their fire." He pushed Eiji away.

"Mikaido... I..." Eiji stuttered.

"If you won't go, you wont be able to get Kaori." Mikaido said as he threw a flare a few meters from him... "Soon you will see [it] too."

"You fool," Eiji said. He knew that the guards would be on to them any minute now because of the flare, so he just hugged him and helped him on his feet.

"GO!" Mikaido put his hand on Eiji's chest and pushed the ninja back. Eiji took a step towards he wounded comrade, but Mikaido's answer was the point of his sword. "KURU NA! (DON'T COME ANY CLOSER)" He roared, his once polite tone changing. "I won't die on my back. Get AWAY FROM… from me." The last few words broke Mikaido's firm tone. "Get away from me. Please." Mikaido turned around and slowly walked towards the advancing enemy. Mikaido mumbled something indistinguishable.

Eiji bit his lip and turned around. In an instant he was gone.

"Live. So that our dreams may live too."

...

Eiji crawled on the beams that criss crossed the ceiling and like a mouse made no sound and weaved his way through it. {This should be it. Eiji thought. Iori Yagami's quarters.} He saw a shadow kneeling in front of a purple candle staring blankly, and to his awe, saw the individual's fingertips erupted in faint purple flame. {It is him... but wait...}

The figure stood up, and to Eiji's horror, it was only a child, probably 8 years old. {GOD DAMN YOU, Yagami! Eiji cursed, You sent me to kill a child... But... Kaori...}

Eiji contemplated for a few minutes, which seemed like hours. He questioned what was more important, his love or slaughtering a child. He put his hand to the pockets in his robe and held his darts in his hand. {Quickly and suddenly, he thought, this way he won't suffer.} Eiji's hands shook as he aimed for the back of Iori's neck. {...Kaori... Eiji muttered} The next moment, a dart clanged on the floor right behind Iori. Iori turned around deathly calmed and grinned a wicked glare. Eiji was standing behind the child ashamed of himself.

"Please, do not fight back... I will make it as quick and painless as possible." Eiji apologetically said.

"Idiot!" Iori sneered out loud.

Eiji was taken aback and suddenly noticed a figure step out of the shadows behind Iori...

"Kisaragi-kun," Yagami-sama, Iori's father said as he put his hand on Iori's shoulder. "I admire your honour... If you had attacked my son from the back my archers would have struck you down in an instant."

Yagami-sama snapped his fingers and around 30 archers revealed themselves from the dark shadows... {My GOD! Eiji said to himself...}

"Now Kisaragi-kun," Yagami-sama said, "I know you come here because Kusanagi promised to grant you your inner most desires, such is the way of the Yakuza. But are you sure you owe him your loyalty?"

"Yagami-san," Eiji said. "I have come here because he promised his daughter to me. I cannot bring myself to kill a child, but I challenge you to a duel. Prove yourself to me, and fight me on equal terms. If I defeat you, I promise not to take your son's life, and I will stop fighting and become...a... a.. I...I won't become a Ninja anymore."

"Oooh?" Yagami-sama smiled... "You? Defeat me? A lowly Ninja guard hoping to defeat a Yagami? You must be joking. But then I must admire your skills if you got this far... You must realize that if you kill me, you won't leave here alive, and besides you must thank your friends for their final gift to you."

As if on queue, two bodies fell from the ceiling. It was the dead bodies of Masa and Mikaido. Eiji stood calm and shed no tears, since he knew that they died honourable and willfully.

"Now, Kisaragi-kun, do you believe that Kusanagi will grant you wish?" Yagami teased as he pulled a letter from Mikaido's pocket. It was stained in blood and Yagami-sama tossed it to Eiji. Eiji picked it up and read it... [Masa, Mikaido, Remember my promise to you, I will grant you both your freedom, upon the completion of your final obligation... Accompany Kisaragi to Yagami palace and after he kills Iori and if he succeeds in doing away with Yagami, kill Kisaragi, and then I WILL GRANT YOU YOUR FREEDOM... -Yoshiki Kusanagi.]

"Well, it seems that I admire or should I say, pity your friends... HAHA... It looks like they were given the same proposal as you HAHAHAHAAAA!" Yagami-sama laughed. "Why don't you join me? I could use a man like you..."

"Loyalty huh..." Eiji said to Masa and Mikaido's motionless bodies... "No, I didn't lie to them when I said I was loyal... Please, grant me a duel with you..."

"Very well, but I do not want to soil my hands with your blood..." Yagami-sama said as he pushed Iori slowly towards him. "Saaa, Iori (now, Iori), kill him for me.

Eiji saw but could not believe as the 8 year old took of his cap, that exposed his maroon hair, and shredded his kimono. He wore dark purple jeans and a black studded leather jacket. In an twinkling, Iori instantaneously burst into purple flames...

…

Live, so that we, our dreams, in turn, can live forever.


	7. Innocent BOY

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

"A child's imagination is only limited by their experience in life - That is why they make friends easily; are not afraid of challenges; and forgive without a second thought."

-Judas Gospel

-08.28.04

**Chapter 7: Innocent B-O-Y**

"I want to grow up..." said one little boy who thought he could conquer the world.

...

Children ran round and round the playground, proclaiming their immunity to the harsh world around them. Happy and free, and yet so ignorant of their 'power', so much unlike the adults who would walk up and down the busy streets for no apparent reason, these children had everything these mindless office workers did not have. Happiness and freedom. Why? That is because they are innocent; innocent of the present evils of the world, but once they acquire knowledge of things like evil, hypocrisy, jealousy, greed and pride, then they have forsaken their childhood, forced to coexist with the suffering that comes with bearing the knowledge of the real world. In such cases like this, knowledge destroys.

It is a wicked cycle, where a child is denied happiness because he is "Too young..." and the false hope is implanted in his mind that when he grows up...

Thus the child forsakes everything "childish..." and to his despair, he realizes the paradox of freedom...

What does it mean to be an Adult? It means having to conform to society's chains - chains that inhibit one from what he feels is important over what is just; beaten into their minds by society...

... and an irony, to be free, a child must become an adult.

"When I grow up..." these children would say...

So what is the greatest power that exists in the world? Innocent Boy?

...

Billy Cane sat in the tree in thought, thought of the events that happened six months ago when he first set eyes upon his new master, Iori Yagami. Iori did not even fight him whole heatedly and yet he defeated Billy rather quickly. It was more than just tarnished pride. Billy never did want to fight, broken up in the streets of London, treated like garbage. He always cursed his fate and blamed it all on the rich, those who would use the power of money to control the lives of people like him. He blacked out his mind, his blind prejudice blamed it all on the rich. Hate and desire, poverty and suffering were all because of the rich. It was a dog eat dog world where the wealthy businessmen could buy anything, the law, happiness it would seem, and even human soul.

And the only way the poor could revolt was through VOILENCE, such barbaric ways were the only weapons they had, and Billy questioned who of the two sides was really at fault.

How he narrowed his views on life and focused it all on his bitter memories. He never questioned his prejudice until that moment Iori said, "I like you, that is all...", and with that Billy gave Iori his respect.

He looked up in the sky and then at the rustling leaves in the tree, then he asked himself {Why? Why is Iori like this?} He looked down at the playground and saw Seirimi-chan playing with the schoolchildren in by the jungle gym. Then he looked farther to the kindergarten just a few meters from the playground, over the sandbox, and the small grassy field. In one particular window stood a maroon haired man with circular spectacles, dressed in tight fitting purple jeans and a khaki sport coat. It was his master Iori whom he was assigned to protect. Billy couldn't help but cough a bit as he noticed Iori smile a bit and burst out in laughter as the children crawled over and around him in play. Iori didn't know that Billy followed him wherever he went, so Billy could only be taken aback at the smile he rarely saw from a bitter visaged man.

{Could this be it...?} Billy wondered as he pulled an apple from his blue jean overalls, took a hearty bite and wiped his mouth with his British flag bandanna.

...

"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! You incompetent morons!" Iori yelled as he tried to tear his hair out.

The children he was taking care of only looked at each other in confusion as to what 'incompetent moron' actually meant. "Grown up talk..." they would mutter to themselves, and not slowing from their pace continued to molest Iori, pulling on his jacket and climbing on top of his head and shoulders. Occasionally, one of his students...

Oh, upon meeting Seirimi Iori figured out that he needed a JOB in order to pay for his living expenses, and presumably, his 'allowance' from Yagami clan was not enough to satisfy both his high living costs and his pride as well. Seirimi suggested that he should work for the local Neo-Tokyo Kindergarten. It would help him adjust to the outside world since he had been living too much of a 'sheltered life'. Iori failed to inform her that he was getting an allowance from his Yakuza family, in fact he didn't mention he was a Yakuza at all. Anyway, with no other alternative to waste his time, he decided to become a kindergarten teacher.

Well, back to the story; Occasionally, one of Iori's students would climb on top of the shelves and he had to rush over while a kid was holding on to his leg with all fours. {Hell, when I was a kid, I didn't have the guts to do this... or neither did I have someone to...} Iori's train of thought broke when he saw Chiyomi who was on top of the shelf, lose balance and started to fall over. Iori's reflexes kicked in and in one motion, he broke Jiro's lock on his leg by slithering his fingers through Jiro's hands and legs, then jumped towards Chiyomi. He caught her in mid flight, and curled into a ball. The book shelf toppled and came down on him, books, toys, and all.

"Yagami-sensei (teacher Yagami), where are you?" came a chorus of children. Iori's students went over and tried to dig their teacher from the mess of books and stuff. They saw him hugging onto Chiyomi, protecting her with his back. The kids helped Chiyomi out and continued to play, leaving Iori's legs, which were sticking out from the mess, trembling in midair. After five minutes, Iori knew he had been forsaken and emerged from the pile like an undead zombie...

"OI KOZO! (Hey you brat) What the hell is your problem you insensitive little brats! I swear I'll make you eat pavement one day." Iori screeched as he started waving his hands up and down in a super deformed nature, complete with alligator teeth. As usual, his students looked at each other ignorant of these 'grown up' words and merely grinned, more in confusion. "Don't you know who I am?" Iori growled, then posed as intimidating as a Yakuza boss could.

"You're Yagami-sensei..." one of his students replied. Iori realized how useless it was to try to intimidate these children, and his joints just froze as a large sweatdrop slowly ran down his cheek.

"BAKA! (Silly...)" Chiyomi said, and her classmates followed suit.

Iori's teeth cringed and he picked up Chiyomi by the collar... Iori started to open his mouth when his solemn mood was broken with..

"Yagami-sensei, you're hurting me..." Chiyomi said softly.

Iori realized that he had just lost his temper, again, and set her down carefully. Iori let out a breath to keep him calm, and just looked at Chiyomi apologetically.

"Now, let's just quiet down okay, if you quiet down and behave I will show you all a..."

"Youko wet her pants!" He heard a voice call out, as he was interrupted. Iori cursed his luck and accompanied Youko to the corner of the room and helped her change her clothes. After the excruciatingly embarrassing experience Iori slapped his cheeks to get the blush out then continued.

"If you behave I will show you all a trick..." Iori coaxed.

"What is it, what is it, Iori-sensei-chan?(chan is used like the English -dear or -darling)" Miyuki interrupted again.

{I...Iori.. -sen... Iori-sensei...-CHAN!?} Iori cringed just thinking of how his father might react if he was seen being called this, but he kept his cool.

"Yoshi...(okay)" Iori exclaimed as he put his finger up in the air. Iori concentrated and slowly it started to glow, then a soft purple flame appeared from his finger tip. For the first time all of Iori's students dropped what they were doing and admired their teacher with 100% attention. Iori made the flame dance on his finger tip, and like a snake he made it twirl, then go around to 'sit up' on his palm. The flame grew, and in a flash, Iori snuffed the flame in his fist.

There was a long silence, children stupefied at the 'trick' then all at one they stuck out their fingers and held their breath, their cheeks puffed up. Iori couldn't help but tremble all over... it started from his feet, rushed up to his knees, then when it reached his chest, he couldn't hold back and exploded into a fit of insane laughter... The laughter echoed through the room and any self respecting adult would explode in a fit of anger, but to Iori's surprise, the kids only laughed back, trying to mimic his mockery. {This is useless...} Iori said to himself as he shook and tried to cover the warm smile on his mouth.}

Miyuki came over and tugged on Iori's jacket prodding him to bend over so she could whisper something in his ear.

"Iori-sensei-chan, how do you do that?" Miyuki asked. "When I grow up I will be able to do that too, ne?"

Iori knelt down and grinned at Miyuki. "Maybe... but it is not the what is out here that is important" Iori said as he put his left hand on Miyuki's shoulder. "It's what is in here that counts." Iori finished as he pointed at Miyuki's chest.

"Huh?" Miyuki said in confusion.

"You must get what is inside... You know when you are feeling angry or scared sometimes? You feel something cold in your chest, but when you are happy, you feel warm. Take it, and try to put that warmth in your stomach, then let it flow to your hand then your fingers." Iori stood up and looked at the kids who were eavesdropping on him... "Only good... only good people can do this..." Iori stammered a bit. "When you grow up.. maybe if you still remember what I said, well, maybe..."

Iori put his hands in his pocket and leaned on the wall. {What a bunch of kids...}

Seirimi came into the room and informed Iori that it was time to dismiss class. Iori, aware of an outsider, calmed himself and glared at Seirimi. "What do you want now?" Iori grunted. Iori got up and eyed Seirimi evilly trying to stare her down, he stood there for almost a minute and Seirimi decided to walk around him...

"Iori, have you been picking on the kids again?" Seirimi said as she looked at the toppled bookshelf. "That look won't hide the fact that you've been too rough with these kids... Clean up the mess now!"

"Shut UP! Wench!" Iori shouted. "I've got no time for these things."

One boy from the crowd started laughing "Her name is Seirimi, Yagami-Sensei forgot her naaame, forgot her naaame..." He giggled.

Iori snarled to himself, and faced Seirimi... "I've had it with these kids, I'm never coming back!" Iori said angrily to Seirimi and stormed out of the classroom, but Iori always returned the next day, as he's been doing for all of 6 months now...

...

Iori left the schoolgrounds with his leather folder clipped between his arms and his hands in his pockets. He felt a familiar aura, then looked to the side. He felt the wind rush to him and pink flower petals came flying towards him, engulfing the environment with a sweet fragrance.

"How corny... Typical of him..." Iori grumbled as he clipped a sakura petal between his middle and index fingers, and set it aflame with a snap of his thumb.

"How do you do, Iori Yagami?" came a man who appeared like a spectre from amidst the cyclone of petals. He was middle aged, but was built for someone of his years. He wore a white kimono with navy blue flower patterns, and had each of his hands in the other's sleeves. He had blue wrappings on his feet and wore tall wooden clogs. However, his most distinguishing feature was his slicked back hair, that had the front sticking out like spikes. "It has been a long time, you have grown since last we met."

"Oi, Ji Ji (hey, gramps), you've come back for more eh?" Iori sneered.

"Oh,... not really, I have come because of your father's wishes. I am..."

"Shut the FUCK up, Kisaragi!" I'm not finished with you yet!" Iori called.

"SIGH... Yare yare…" the middle aged Eiji let out... "It's been 14 long years and still you can't get over it... It must be terrible to live a Yakuza... so edgy and can't even let things go..."

"Humph, It doesn't matter, my father probably sent you to the slaughter. How nice sending you to me so that you could be killed!" Iori smiled evilly. He threw his folder to the sidewalk, took off his jacket and in a flash, shred his clothes pants and sweater, he showed off his 'Sex Pistols' fashion brown leather bondage pants complete with the strap in between, and his waving white oxford/Marie-Claire shirt..

Billy jumped from the tree he was sitting in and stood coolly at the sidewalk between Eiji and Iori.

"JOUTOU-MADDEY (bad accent for Chotto matte = wait a moment) Playtimes over gramps! You're not gonna come any closer, rooster man!" Billy called in a macho fashion. He twirled his stick around his arms and let it crash on the pavement, making crack marks racing from its epicenter. "I'm going to give your sorry ass till the count'a five, and then I'll have to be forced to dump your sorry bottom in the rubbish bin. WAHAHAHYAHAYA!"

Billy looked to the pair, but as usual he was ignored again... "AAAAARRGGGHH!" Billy let out in a blast. Neither of the two removed their glare from the other's icy stare, Iori, being warm and vengeful, while Eiji's cool and calm. Billy pulled off his bandanna and bit it to relieve his frustration. The turned into a silly looking Super deformed body and started to beat the trash cans to pulps just to get their attention, and after four crows came by cawing out and making him realize his incompetence, Billy decided on the direct approach. He pouted, trodded over to Iori and popped the earphone from Iori's ear...

"I AM TALKING HEEEEEEEEERRRREEEEE!" Billy hollered to Iori's ear. Iori seemingly annoyed glared at Billy, and sent chills through his body.

"What do you want? I will handle this _O-K-A-Y_?" Iori said condescendingly.

"But.. but... I have to..." Billy tried to argue that defending Iori was his job.

"I am not deaf okay..." Iori snarled at Billy... Billy turned back into Super deformed form and with his eyes in semi circles let a sweatdrop fall down his cheek, as a strap from his overalls, slid down his shoulder. Iori took out his walkman and threw it to Billy.

"Here, take care of it for me... I wouldn't want you to get HURT." Iori said sarcastically. Billy only sat on the wall that surrounded the school and popped the earphone in his ear.

"Hmmm, British... uh... yes! Sex Pistols!" Billy said in triumph.

"Haaaaaaaaaahhhhhh..." Iori said as a sigh, as Billy started to mutter the lyrics to 'Anarchy in the U.K.'

Iori focused again on Eiji, with his hands in a ready fighting stance. This time, you won't run away like a coward... Kisaragi..." Iori Taunted. Fists clenched by his sides Iori charged up and the wind encircled him. Iori was standing next to the mailbox, and Eiji was around ten meters away from him, next to a streetlight. Iori moved like an arrow, his elbow leading the way, engulfed in purple flames, hungry for blood. Eiji refused to move and merely shut his eyes.

"Are you going to run again!?" Iori shouted a split second before he expected to make contact. He cocked his elbow back and with a hand in a claw, slashed at Eiji's midsection. However, Iori merely went through Eiji as if he weren't there and when he looked at his palms he saw a bunch of pink petals. Surprised, Iori skidded to a halt and looked back to find Eiji's back facing him, still standing erect and calm next to the streetlight.

Iori crushed the petals in his hand and burned them, leaving purple ashes which scattered on the pavement. "Omoshiroi (interesting), this fight might be more than I had dreamed of..."


	8. Girl :y8irl

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

What are you trying to prove? What are you trying to accomplish?

These are simple questions.

-08.28.04

**Chapter 8: Girl (y8irl:)**

Her father walked away sighing, and the little lady was knelt on her knees which were in a 'V' shape, her kneecaps touching. She wiped off her tears and tried to get up slowly, all bruised and broken up, yet still full of desire and spirit.

"One… One more round Otou-sama (father)!" she called in defiance... "Challenge me one more time, I'll learn it this time!" She said wholeheartedly with her gloved hands clenched in fists. "Mondai wo atsukau desu ka. (Come on, I can take it, it is okay!)..."

Her father dressed in white pants and a maroon shirt, topped with an orange vest merely turned around and sighed a breath of disappointment. He turned around and put his hand on his temples, looking rather angry or somewhat annoyed at his daughter...

"What is wrong with you..." Her father, Joseph called out forcefully. "Will you just give it up! It looks awkward enough that I am fighting with a little girl okay, people think I am a child molester or something." Joseph extended his index finger condescendingly at his daughter. "What are you trying to PROVE anyway?!"

The little lady looked up teary eyed, not from the bruises on her body or from the painful blows she suffered from her father, but what hurt were his words, words that hurt a hundred times more than his kicks or punches. She buried her face in her hands to try and hide her tears from him. She clawed her knees to somehow let the pain overcome her grief, to let no sign of weakness show, but it was in vain as the streams of tears trickled through her fingers and down her cheeks and neck.

"Humph, you're pathetic!" Joseph called out, cross armed as he threw his head into the air. "Go play with your DOLLS or something..."

The girl's shoulders shook from her sobs and she quickly took away her hands, steadily sniffing up the tears and runs that were dripping from her nose. With a loud scream, like a cry of inner desire, more than of sobs, she got up and rushed for the small blade which hung on the gym wall. She returned to her earlier position and knelt down, clutching the blade with her tense little hands.

"What are you going to do? Kill yourself?" Her father continued to mock. "What can you hope to accomplish with your weak will?"

The girl only wiped her tears with her white sleeves, and with a click, the dagger came free from its sheath. Joseph looked in awe at his daughter. Part of him was laughing at her pathetic display, but part of him felt some sort of concern, he wondered if his daughter was serious. She held the dagger with her right hand and let her hand move freely, sending it a distance from her chest, with a reversed grip more like a stabbing hold.

She clutched the back of her long blonde hair with her other hand and in one swipe, golden streams cluttered the floor. She threw the dagger onto the side and stood up in anger. Her long golden hair, that fell over her shoulders, that flowed in the wind and made her the envy of her classmates was now nothing but uneven cuts that hardly reached her ears.

Her father looked in awe at her action, but after a while began to laugh... Laugh insanely that made her more and more furious. She ran towards her father and leapt forward, her fist leading the way. Joseph used his hand to parry the blows, blocking and throwing her attacks aside. With her short arms, she was definitely at a disadvantage and tried her best, put her physical capabilities to the limit just to keep up with her father. She would strike furiously but none of her blows would connect, and occasionally she would get slaps from her father mocking her sloppy defense. Her blood boiled the more slaps she took. Her father lunged down to a half crouch to drop down to her level, and will a valiant yell, she dodged one of his slaps aimed for her side. The y8irl: flipped backwards, used her hands as a brace to send her feet up in a reverse somersault kick.

Her left foot led the way in a rising arc and broke her father's defense, then her right came and hit him squarely in the jaw, making spittle fly to the side. She got up and when she realized what she had done out of anger, she cautiously approached her father. Joseph clutched his cheek in shame more than in pain, and stared through his daughter. Before she could say anything, he sent a punch that felt like a jackhammer to her midsection then swept her of her feet before her brain could tell her the punch even connected, before she hit the ground, her father grabbed her in midair by the shirt and threw her to the wall. With a loud thud she skidded down the gym wall and rolled down the floor, clutching her belly with her arms. She curled up in a ball keeping her knees close to her midsection.

She was burning inside, and she tried to keep herself from crying out, to kept the warm feeling stuff inside her from dripping down her lips.

Her father only looked in disgust and proceeded to walk away.

"W...wa... oto... (father..)" She gasped painfully, "I can... don't leav..."

Her father did not even look around to his hurt daughter. "Why did I have to be cursed with a daughter... I only wanted a son." Joseph, went out the door and closed the lights, leaving her in the darkness. She sobbed silently.

The only thing she wanted was love from her father, but she had to settle for bruises and wounds, for the bitter impulses and uncontrollable stream of tears felt like sweet sensations to her, it was the only thing she would get from her father, the only way she would be noticed. It was the only sensation that told her she was alive.

...

"It's ok. I won't die. The pain will go away… I won't cry."

…

It was around 4:00 PM now; a petite bodied high schooler, who was just dismissed from class went to her part time job. She wore a neat looking western style girls' uniform, unlike the sailor suits more popular with highschools. Her name was Yuri, Yuri Sakazaki and she let out a little smile when she looked up and read the sign of the club she worked waitress at... La Bijoux.

She came through the door and marveled at the great establishment she worked in. It looked so small from the outside, but when you went in, you could only marvel at the elegant surroundings. There were tables everywhere, a small stage for the jazz band, the high ceiling was spectacular, and the mile long bar that lined the wall. She smiled again. Yuri seemed always cheerful and was proud to work in a neat place, not like a seedy tavern, but more a place to sit and relax in a peaceful atmosphere. She looked around for her boss... "KING! KING-san!" Yuri yelled with her hands as next to her mouth. "Where are you! KIIINGG!" Her calls echoed throughout the place, but no answer came. Yuri decided that she was taking a nap upstairs and decided to change for work.

Yuri went over to the den and took off her jacket and shirt. The uniform was simple, a brown skirt, ruffled long sleeved blouse and a matching jacket. She unbuttoned her skirt and upon hitting the floor, a cold hand touched her shoulder.

"Ey, sexy! How's it going!" came a man's voice from behind.

Yuri blushed and quickly pulled her blouse in front of her trying to cover her front. Realizing that it was useless since she was wearing nothing but underwear, she quickly swung around and threw her palm out.

SLAP! The booming echo resonated off the den's walls as the surprised man flew to the sofa. The sofa skidded before toppling over on its side. Robert Garcia held his head "Aiyaaaa, that hurt," he said as he massaged his cheek and his head that hit the floor.

"You pervert!" Yuri shouted as she quickly put the uniform on. "That's what men like you deserve, you don't think about anything but chasing women."

Robert got up and straightened his hair and clothes. He put his pony tail on and proceeded to pat his long white pants, and straightened his maroon shirt and brown leather vest. "Come on, I was born this way, never able to resist beautiful women." Robert purred.

Yuri blushed for a bit then realized it was Robert he was talking to, and pouted instead, right after giving him another hefty swing ofcourse. "Why don't you grow up! If you weren't Onii-sama's (big brother's) best friend, I would've done away with you looong ago! Women aren't playthings you know, you can't just pick them up left and right."

"Why?" Robert asked with a grin "Do you feel jealous when I do?"

Yuri just sighed and left him alone in the room, still babbling away to himself, pinching the flesh between his eyebrows. Reciting a tragic poem to himself. Again.

...

Yuri walked over and decided to put up the tables and chairs, occasionally calling out her employer's name and after a few calls of "GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!" she finally heard a reply as King came down the stairs still half asleep.

King dug her fingers in her shirt yellow hair and let out a long yawn. Yuri's eyes opened wide when she looked at the half conscious individual leaning on the railings. King was still half naked in her sleepwear. She had a white, long sleeved blouse which was wide open at the front and the wrist cuffs unbuttoned, not helping to cover the black sports bra that she wore and the dark panties that stuck out under the white top.

"Nnngghh," King mumbled, "Is it time to open already?" King continued her slow seemingly drunk pace down the stairs.

"ARARARA! King-san, don't come down!" Yuri pleaded as she came over to her.

"I'm okay, I'm not drunk..." King said.

"NONONO!" Yuri exclaimed, "Robert is here... he's," Yuri's warnings came too late as a man with heart shapes in his eyes came rushing over, leaving a trail of dust behind him...

"Kiiiinnnnggg-chaaaaaaannnnn!" Robert cooed as she ran past the worried Yuri Sakazaki.

"ABUNAI! Look out!" Yuri called, "King-san!"

The moonstruck Robert raced up the stairs and threw himself at King, his lecherous fingers leading the way, targeted for her breasts. {a little more.. little more...} Robert said in midair, but he felt nothing except the cold clammy feet that met his face in mid-flight. King, still not fully awake, had her leg up straight at Robert's face, not even breaking from her dazed stance, she was still leaning on the railings. Robert skidded down her feet and with a barrage of thumps, the human slinky toy slid down the ripple of stairs to be met at the bottom with Yuri's curses of Wretch and Hentai (pervert) as she stomped on him furiously in Super Deformed form.

"Well, go on..." King yawned at Yuri, "I'll go change, and meet you in a few minutes." King yawned one last time and stretched her arms up before going up the stairs to her room.

Robert forced himself up and Yuri continued to set up the tables... "Itt'tte'te'teeeee! (ouuuuuch)" Robert said rubbing his nose, cheek and head at the same time. "I thought it would be today. Today."

"Good for you!" Yuri said coldly.

"Sigh, I don't understand her, she's so cold and unfeeling all the time." Robert complained, now in a cross legged Indian sit. "How can someone so attractive like her be so, so, unfeminine."

"Goes to show what you know..." Yuri said, now dusting the tables and wiping them.

"Eh?" Robert said with a confused visage. "Is it me? Does she hate me? Waaaaagghhh!" Robert exclaimed calwing his temples as if his brain was about to explode, Hokuto no Ken style. "Have I become ugly all of a sudden!?" Robert quickly looked at the mirror and flexed his muscles vainly, thumb and index finger supporting his square chin.

Yuri went over to Robert and bonked him square on the top of his head to bring him back to earth. She whispered in his ear "Don't you know, King hates it when guys hit on her? She was raised as a boy by her dad... Don't you wonder why she acts so tough?!"

"Really!" Robert called in amazement. "Awww, she's no fun. But no worry" Robert said in reassurance as he sent his fist to his muscular chest. "I, Robert Garcia, ThE WoRlD's GREATEST LoVeR, will awaken the woman in her!"

"Cut it with the Don Juan deMarcio act okay! I've seen the movie and you're no loverboy!" Yuri said at his cheesy display.

Robert paid no attention to Yuri's insults and just looked at the staircase up to King's room. {King...-san} Robert whispered to himself, but more to the closed door that was the only thing that ever listened to him.

…

YOUKOZO! LA BIZJOUX he!

WELCOME! TO LA BIJIOUX!

…If you believe, if you want to be together, if you want to live forever, then you can accomplish it, if only just for a night.

...

By 8:00 PM, the customers would fill La Bijoux with their chatter, whispers and laughter, a great atmosphere that made it seem so homey, somewhat easy going. A great place to be In New England, one of the many grand towns in New Hong Kong, the place that brought different people together, if only just for a night...

Robert acted as bouncer, he stayed outside to greet acquaintances and frequent customers, always flashing a hypocrite smile to keep them happy, he also had to keep ruffians and undesirables away, usually 'referring' them to local bars which they could freely cause trouble if they wanted. Two figures came in, the usual customers, Todo and Duck King. Duck was all smiles patting Robert on the back and sometimes offering him tips or a bottle of whiskey to get on his good side. On the other hand, Todo and Robert were old enemies, and Todo never even bothered to greet Robert. Robert on the other hand, not wanting to displease King simply smiled and greeted him even if he was ignored.

Yuri lead the customers to their tables and made sure the jazz band was doing their job. Yuri didn't have to worry about the band since they were doing a splendid job and had real talent. It was as if they could implant emotions into their customers, the flowing rhythms would make the crowd sad, angry and happy all at the same time, and the customers just loved the sweet melodies they'd play.

King was at her post, as bartender. A call would come from the far end of the bar, and she would make a mental note while Yuri piled order slips on the long spike next to the cash register. In blinding speed, King would create the drinks as if she was merely playing. Once she finished, she threw it and it would slide down the high polish, mile long bar to it's customer, and off she was to her next order. Well, she could handle many things at once and could always engage in little chit-chat with customers as she continued to make drinks with her autonomous hands. There is an invaluable rule in this business, you have to always be happy, almost hypocrite to your customers, but you cannot go against that. That is what they come to you for. They want to escape from the stress of their real life jobs, wanting a change from the rough and hectic officeplace. They turn to you to create a whole new world, and environment where they can escape from their worries and troubles.

…and this was my duty, something even God could not provide.

King was making a few screwdrivers (Orange juice and Vodka. Good stuff.), when Yuri came over with another order slip. "Busy night, huh?" Yuri said as she wiped her brow. "Maybe we can have a drink with Robert tonight, but nothing strong for me okay, I have a quiz tomorrow." Yuri smiled.

"Sure, sure, just don't tell anyone I corrupt the youth. Besides, I need your help to drag me to my bed when I get plastered after, HAHA!" King laughed. "I sure as hell can't trust that Mr. Garcia!"

"You know, King-san," Yuri said, hoping to get some chit chat as a little break from waiting tables. "Robert, he really likes you. Have you ever thought of wearing a skirt?" Yuri slowly and apprehensively remarked as she looked at King's attire. It was hardly feminine, She had a collared white blouse, maroon top almost like a tail-less tuxedo, and corduroy pants held up with suspenders, all tied up on top with a bowtie. "The pants you're wearing hardly suits you. You have a great body, shouldn't let it go to waste." Yuri said while trying not to sound too forceful as to upset her.

King threw the two screwdrivers as she called out her customers' names to prepare them, and her sweet tone of "Shinjuni-san, Kurosawa-san, screwdrivers coming up.." became cold and harsh as King sent her hand to the bar. "Look, Kid!" King said firmly to Yuri. "What I wear and how I act is MY business, you're not working here to be my image consultant."

Yuri just smiled apologetically and put her tray up to cover her chest with crossed arms. "Gomen gomen.. (sorry sorry)" Yuri apologized, "I didn't mean it like that I was just saying.." King walked down the bar and made a zombie (something else green) as she poured a shot of Connemara Single-malt Whisky in a glass for herself. Yuri feeling guilty, only walked away, hoping that King would forget about the incident later when clean up time came.

A shout suddenly echoed from outside the door; it was Robert, and with a loud crash, the door opened. Two towering brutes with large pot bellies dressed in leather and jean biker gear, chains and spikes and all, trotted into the room, occasionally bumping into and toppling chairs over. Yuri, wanting to apologize for her earlier conversation with King, tried to confront the two ruffians. She was starting an attack when one of them approached her and flipped up her skirt, making Yuri drop her stance, and sit on the floor trying to cover herself. Yuri cried at her weakness, and tried to verbally assault the two instead.

The two bikers pushed some customers off their barstools and leaned over to King.

"Hey, baby, why don't you make me something that will let me feel good..." He jeered. "GHAHAHA, got any brew on you!"

The second took an interest in King and tried to coax her, but only got cold stares.

"Sorry, but I do not waste fine drinks to uncivilized brigands like yourselves, please vacate my club at once." King said calmly not even looking up from the drinks she continued to make.

"Ooooooo, a tough one." The first sneered. "What's wrong, you don't like the way I look? You too stuck up to look at a man like me."

King set the drinks down and slammed her palm down on the redwood bar, without changing the cold and snobbish demeanor on her visage. "I don't judge people by what they look like, you got that!" King said forcefully, "But the moment you harass my customers, I won't have you messing up the peace in my club!" King said, her voice steadily rising. "How'd you get in here anyway?"

"Aw, you mean the beefcake outside?" The second laughed, "He wasn't too much of a challenge..."

{KEH! What a useless, sorry ass I have for a bouncer,} King thought, {I wonder what his explanation is this time!}

"Now, be nice, and give me some service, baby!" The first joked as he held Kings hand and tried to pull her to him. King slid the cocktail to a customer down the bar with her free right hand and sent a backhand to the first thug's face. Once disoriented she lunged the same hand to the man's wrist and pried it free from her's and backfisted him 2 more times with his own meaty paw, which sent him reeling back. The cocktail continued to slide down the sleek rosewood and onto a waiting customer's open palm. The lady, wearin a black collared polo shirt merely adjusted her purple tie and didn't look up, and just gripped the chilled glass. The thug hit the floor.

The second quickly reacted, brandished a knife and stabbed at King. King still uneasy at fighting behind the bar, and worried about her other customers could not react in time and she could only watch as the blade flew to her face. In a sudden rush a spray of blood flew and landed on the bar, drops then steadily trickling. King looked up and to her surprise, Robert had caught the thugs knife. The thug sent the knife in a stabbing grip, and Robert made sure that the blade went between his middle and ring finger when he covered the man's fist in an open palm vice grip. He was off by a bit and the knife slashed through his leather gloves and cut his hand up pretty badly.

"Ga… Garcia..." King uttered in surprise... looking relieved at his appearance, then suddenly shifting to a firm gaze, "You screwed up, you jerk!"

"Sorry," Robert said apologetically with surprisingly warm eyes and a sincere face which startled King, who was used to his lecherous grin. "They told me they were your friends and were going to take you out on a date, so I got jealous, and they got the jump on me." Robert smiled, eyes closed.

King's stern look became mellow again, and she had to control herself from blushing. The warm atmosphere between the two was broken when the thug twisted his hand free and slashed at Robert. The knife cut King's face and on a wild return slash, cut her blouse open. King was expecting Robert to be all over her and covered herself preparing to slug him at the slightest provocation, but to her astonishment again, Robert instead grew furious and collared the thug, staining the thug's jacket with the blood from his hands.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Robert yelled. "Don't you touch her!"

King leaned at the back of the bar, confused at Robert's sudden change of character and watched him hoist the man up in the air. Robert sent his knee rising to the thug's chest, then Robert's feet to his groin, then his knees, and eventually making his kicks seem like a blur, balanced the ruffian in the air, with the barrage, finally ending it with a roundhouse that left him floating in the vacuum of space for a second, then, as Newton reminded inertia of its folly, Robert instantaneously sent him crashing into a pile of unoccupied tables.

"You IDIOT!" King shouted, "You ruined the tables!"

Robert only smiled at her, and with a two fingered salute, sighed and dragged the two bodies out the club and 'referred' them to another establishment.

...

By the time it was 3:00 am, Yuri had put all the chairs on the tables and swept the floor, and she also did away with the broken tables. While Yuri was doing the dishes and cleaning out glasses, King sat on the barstool, with a bottle of Cognac and a shot glass in her hand. Robert came in with his bandaged hand, and still wore his shredded glove over it. He came and sat next to King and reached for a shot glass behind the bar, and poured himself a drink.

"Rough night huh?" Robert said as if he was trying to apologize. "The customers left early..."

"It's all your fault... I could've handled it!" King scolded. "You always have to get your dick in the way! Don't you think I can handle it myself, you braindead twit!"

"I was only worried you know, It is part of being a man." Robert said, "A guy's got to be strong, and protect those he ... he .. he cares about."

"You think I can't take care of myself huh!" King snapped back angrily.

Robert's eyes, closed slightly as he tried to calm King, and he ran his fingers down the cut in her cheek. "It's still bleeding." Robert said softly as he proceeded to lick up the blood and kiss the wound.

King stood up to get away from Robert and put her back on the bar. Robert got up and stood a foot away from King with his hands in his pockets. "Sorry... couldn't help it... punch me if you really hate me..." Robert went over and out his hands on King's shoulder and hugged her. King was trapped in confusion and shock, not knowing what to do. She just sighed and put her forehead on Robert's chest. The next moment, Yuri came out from the kitchen with a pile of trays...

"King-san! I am going home!" Yuri called, "You want me to bring you to your room?"

Yuri stood in awe at Robert who was embracing King tightly, but it seemed like an illusion when she heard the clamor of the stack of trays she dropped, a loud thud and Robert's groan, as he clutched for his groin upon reaching the floor curled up like a ball.

"It's okay I am going to sleep." King said. She finished another shot of Cognac and went up to her room and slammed the door.

{Sigh, Yuri puffed, You NEVER learn do you...} Yuri slung her bag over her shoulder and proceeded out the door.

Robert was still curled up on the floor, clutching himself. {Heh, damn...} he sighed, but his frown slowly turned into a peaceful smile as he closed his eyes, and tried to numb the pain with his accomplishment.

…

"Tonight, tonight, tonight. I let out a sigh…cause I hope that you feel it too. Let me know what you want from you, cause I know you feel it too…"

…


	9. Lemon

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

…

-08.28.04

**Chapter 9: Lemon**

("Lemon" is a fanfiction term, not Japanese slang. It means a fanfiction that has gratuitous (often graphic) sex. Terms for innuendo would be "hentai" or "ecchi". –Thanks for the correction by reader, SNAKEVNM8:Koto Fujishima - There is actually no lemon in this fanfiction, so you can stop reading now to save yourself the trouble. I forget why I even used the term in the title back in '96.)

High School life is great. It is a self-contained world all on its own. Unlike the real world, which has shades of gray, in High School everything is clear/cut in black and white, there is good, and there is bad.

No questions.

The rules never change, and anyone can win. A monotonous life which many dreamers fail to appreciate until they leave the secure walls that confine them.

Their dreams fail them in the real world, as the regret eats them alive.

...

The day was lit up with the bright sun. Birds were chirping, the leaves swayed, and the wind was cool and calming, but a High School student's weekday is like any other... Dead, dreary, and it just sucked. Day by day these individuals would put on their school uniform att he beat of a buzzer, complaining about the lack of fashion, were herded to class like cattle, had to put up with stupid rules, always wanting to be free of this pathetic existence.

Except for one Asian boy... Kyo Kusanagi walked down the path on the way to school. He had his black formal uniform unbuttoned in the front, his sleeves rolled up, and his bad bandanna to keep his long hair off of his face. A real cool guy, heartthrob of the nation. Unlike the rest of the dreamers; Kyo knew...

He realized the secret behind High School life and understood, because unlike his sheltered classmates, who were with family and friends, and were sheltered from the pain of the real world; Kyo was alone... Lack of fashion? It saves me the trouble of increasing my wardrobe. Cattle? I don't have to worry about a schedule. Rules? It is more exciting to break! Without a father from a young age, he took life as it was given to him. Harsh and real, not like some dream of fairy tale.

It must suck to be a sophomore at the age of 19.

"Oooooh, he's so cute..."

"I want him so bad..."

"Nnnng... Why won't he notice me..."

"Today, I will get him today!"

From the corner of his eye, Kyo could see the red faces, the incessant screaming, the whispering of the girls amongst themselves. Sometimes, a girl would come over to him and no matter how calm the approach, she would always break down and stutter when they started to exchange words. Some burst into tears upon touching him, and others turned red and fainted. Kyo didn't mind, actually he loved the attention, something he never had as an orphan. One might think that the guys in school hated him, jealous of him... but it was the contrary, all the guys looked up to him. Kyo had it all. He had the charm, the looks that made him look angelic, the courage and the fighting spirit. Someone every guy could look up to.

Everywhere Kyo went, he had a platoon of his fan club, which practically comprised the whole female populous on campus, whether it be student or teacher. This school was the only family he had.

...

The chimes signaled the first class, and Kyo took his seat next to the window. It was French, and as Kyo was about to sling his feet on the table Madame Dupont came into the room.

"Monsieur Kusanagi..." Dupont said sarcastically, almost angrily, "I am sure you are very comfortable, but I will not be able to see your lovely face if you sit like that."

The girls in the class instinctively stared daggers at Dupont for picking on their beloved Kyo. Paying no attention, Madame Dupont began with the lecture and started reading out French text out loud for the class to follow. Kyo merely stared out at the window, dreaming... The trees, the leaves, the grass, so peaceful... Dupont went on and on, and soon her voice became mumbles, then murmurs until Kyo could hear nothing. His eyes started to close slowly, turning the world dark... and purple...

...

"Otou-san! (Father)..." an 11 year old Kyo screamed, but it soon turned into a hoarse cough as his own blood choked him. He tried to look ahead of him, to his father, but all he could see was crimson, streams of his own blood. A vague outline of his father, staggered in front of him.

"Run away, K..kk..Kyo..." His father Saishyuuu beckoned with an outstretched hand. "Run... run..."

Instinctively, Kyo ran to his father's arms, cursing his weakness, for the unknown assailant had swatted him aside as if he were a mere fly. Defiant to the end, Kyo held on to his father, not wanting to let go. In an instant it came... Flames... red... white... no, it was purple. It came towards him hungrily and hoped to devour him whole. In an instant, Saishyuuu grabbed ahold of his son's blue denim jacket, now stained maroon, and turned around, taking the full impact of the fiery attack with his own body, protecting his beloved son.

"OTOUSAN!" Kyo called out. Saishyuuu fell limp on Kyo's shoulders and valiantly, Kyo tried to drag his father away with his weakened limbs. It was no use, and the dark shadow slowly came closer and closer. The footsteps came slowly, and softly, but to Kyo it seemed as loud as thunderclaps, mocking his insolence with every step. Kyo shook all over, fearing the imminent death that was about to take him.

"Kyo..." came a faint whisper. "Son, I plead you... run away. Worry not about me, my life is over. I have to atone for my crimes..."

Saishyuu had once told Kyo about their family's legacy. They were Yakuza, the underground crime lords who secretly controlled Japan. It was a brutal, bloody life, and Saishyuu, being a peaceful man did not want anything to do with it. When Saishyuu was 25 he was destined to fight Yagami-sama, Iori 's father. The ritual was conducted every generation, where a Yagami and a Kusanagi were to engage in a duel to the death, and the victor would surely flourish over their opponents for they were seen as favoured by the gods. Saishyuu could not take it, the senseless waste of life, the bloodshed, and the immorality.

Ironically Saishyuu was one of the most skilled fighters Kusanagi had, and he refused to fight when he was chosen to go against Yagami-sama, so he ran away, fleeing from his destiny to start a new life. However, a Yakuza's life is never that simple. It would not matter if you are a mere slave or a part of the family, an act of defiance must be met with death, as such, to prove an example to other future offenders. Saishyuu knew that he would be stalked to the ends of the earth, or worse other Yakuza families would take advantage of the situations and do away with him. Saishyuu thought his dreams would last him forever, so he married, had a son. He never realized the cruel fate he had set for his only child. Another baby to be sacrificed to the harsh and horrid world, and moreover, he would be met with a society that would not greet him kindly, for the name Kusanagi meant only fear and hate. It seems like Saishyuu's past has finally caught up with him...

"Escape..." Saishyuu gasped, "Grow strong... avenge me, but do it out of honour, not hate... I am sorry to have brought you to this worl..." With those words a hand gripped Saishyuu's head and lifted him up with ease. Kyo staggered back and cowered to a wall. He could only watch as his father burst into flame. In a twinkling it was over and the unseen assassin merely, slammed Saishyuu's corpse into the wall, embedding his head in place. Kyo cried tears flowed from his eyes, but the fear chained him down.

The killer flashed a wicked smile and bellowed, "KYO KUSANAGI! continue to read from where I stopped!"

...

Kyo snapped out of his daydream and turned to face a rather infuriated Madame Dupont. "Kyo, translate the next line for us..."

Kyo looked around and realized his apparent predicament and looked around for a book. One magically appeared in front of him. He flipped through it and found a bookmark, a little piece of paper with the name Hiromi and a phone number. Kyo looked to his side and nodded in gratitude as Hiromi blushed and covered her face with her hands. Kyo looked calm as usual and started to translate the English into French...

"Where is the bathroom..." Kyo began...

"Monsieur Kusanagi, I want the French!" Dupont snapped.

"I know, I know, let me talk okay..." Kyo said. "Kuesukei loo sallei la bannz..." (Bad French in homage to the bad Japanese to English classroom scenes in Anime ^_^... Which was hard to do since this is an English fanfic... -Susan).

"Do you ACTUALLY pay attention in my class Kyo?" Dupont said, "Or do you plan to be a sophomore the rest of your life."

Kyo slammed the book on his table and forcefully walked over to Dupont. He stared at her in the eye and clenched his fists. Dupont taken by surprise, had to lean on the table and wipe her brow as Kyo walked out of class and slammed the door behind him.

...

It was PE class next.

The boy's locker room was filled with incessant chatter, screams and random cursing. There was a little talk about math, last nights basketball game and gossip about the girls on campus. In math, there were the nerds, in PE the jocks, but right there and then, all of them were equal. All of them close friends. A man's relationship is so unlike a romantic one, platonic in a sense. There is nothing to hide and most of the time nothing to be hypocrite about.

"Boy, you're ugly!" came a voice.

"Oh yeah, Fuck You!" was the reply followed by hearty laughter.

"Do you want to play ball after class?"

"Naw, I have to go to work."

"I met this new girl on campus..."

"I'll steal her from you when you're not looking..."

Kyo smiled to himself. The atmosphere was calm and thoughts were open, much unlike a romantic relationship. He knew that once they graduated, they wouldn't be this close ever again. In the dog eat dog world, there was nothing quite like this. They were blinded upon leaving these campus walls, and hypocrisy, greed, and lies superseded all else.

Kyo hung his jacket on the bench and took off his shirt. The locker room was hot and his sweat ran down his muscled chest. He sunk behind Tony and grabbed him by the neck and messed up his hair.

"Noogie Noogie!" Kyo yelled, and Tony toppled over trying to break free of his hold and turned a bench over. Kyo stood in confusion, for he heard more than a bench crash. He looked out the window and to his surprise saw a troupe of girls peeping.

"Aiyaaa! Kathy's got a nose bleed!" came a voice. Kathy blushed and ran to the bathroom in embarrassment. Kyo's eyes widened and looked down to see his pants down, and a bunch of guys behind him were rolling over in laughter. Kyo abruptly pulled up his pants and wrestled the hysterical group behind him. Some guys came over to the window and showed off in front of the girls, but the girls ran away screaming "Hentai! (pervert / weirdo)"

Kyo sighed and just put his PE gear on.

...

Five... four... three... Kyo as well as the rest of the class murmured. The bell echoed the sound of relief. It was lunch time at last, and in a matter of seconds, the classroom was as bare as the Sahara, leaving the stunned math professor holding his piece of chalk up, talking to an invisible audience.

Upon stepping out of the classroom, Kyo was fair game. His friends signaled him, like a track and field coaches -to RUN! They spread their arms out and acted as a human barricade when the stampede of girls rushed to offer their lunches to Kyo. 'A service of friendship' the guys always said, as their composure and stern faces turned to jello when the girls' bodies pressed on to theirs trying to get through.

It was open season every lunch time, and Kyo had to find new passageways to get to the open fields or quadrangle because his 'fan club' would always plan it out and block routes he used quite frequently. Hang a left and right, up the stairs then jump down. Into classrooms and out windows, but it would always end as he was overwhelmed by their sheer numbers when he was pushed to a dead end.

"Take my lunch, Kyo."

"No, I made this especially for you."

"I worked on this since this morning."

Kyo only smiled and tried to keep the riot of girls away from him.

TAKE A TRIP OUT TO THE BEACH, MAKE THE SUNSHINE TOUCH YOUR HEART. MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD, MAKES YOU SMILE, MAKES YOU FLY AWAY. THE SUMMER IS MAGIC.

"Kyo!" Came a voice from above. Holiday threw a stretch of rope down and a number of guys up on the wall tugged, sending Kyo up. Followed by the disappointed calls of his admirers below. Kyo ran as fast as he could when he got over and quickly bought a large bowl of noodles from the cafeteria, which he quickly ate it in the quadrangle. The girls just sighed, and decided to plan a better attack for tomorrow.

Holiday ate his cheese burger next to Kyo and patted him on the back as usual.

"They're getting better, Kyo." Holiday smiled.

"I must be getting rusty." Kyo replied.

"You know, sometimes I wish I was like you... so popular with the girls.." said Holiday.

Kyo only sighed and drank the rest of the soup bottoms up. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and fixed his gaze at Holiday.

"Holiday..." Kyo said as he put his hand on his shoulder. "You have a great girlfriend, and I should be the one who envies you..."

"Who me?" Holiday said as he pointed at his nose, confused. "But you can have any girl you want."

"HA HA!" Kyo laughed. "Then why don't I still have one?"

BLINK BLINK went Holiday.

"You see... Do you really think those girls love me? Naw!" Kyo smirked as he waved his hand in front of Holiday's face. Kyo looked up and talked more to himself than to Holiday... "They may think they do, but seriously, it's just my looks. I don't want to have a hypocrite relationship based on something superficial like that..."

"Don't jerk me off, Kyo!" Holiday said slyly... "I know deep down you enjoy it..."

"Get out!" Kyo shouted suddenly.

Holiday only looked in confusion "Hey, I was only Jokin..."

"Get the FUCK OUT!" Kyo yelled again, now more forcefully...

"Look, I..." Holiday now said in an angry tone as he pointed at Kyo furiously.

"I said, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!" Kyo said as he pushed Holiday aside with both palms sending him a few meters away.

In an instant, there was a flash of steel. Kyo's body instinctively moved. He planted his left foot on the ground and shifted his center of gravity, at the same time crossed his right foot over his left and sent kick in a roundhouse. There was a faint thump and a clang as something hit the steel fence. On the ground lay a metal dart.

"Get out of here..." Kyo said calmly to Holiday who sat on his bottom, confused yet again, his blonde ahir, once up in spikes, now ruffled like a wet bird. In an instant four ninja guards dressed in white and gray urban fatigues appeared like ghosts.

"Uz, baybee... (hey!)" Kyo said smugly. Without any more words, the four ninja attacked. Two from behind one from above and another straight at him. Kyo put his fists up in a defensive stance and waited until the last moment to make his move. The one at the back came first as he expected. One led the way and attacked from above while the other followed from behind. A jump, and the first ninja was in the air. Kyo instinctively jumped too and with the sun behind him, the ninja could only see a faint silhouette. Before his eyes could refocus Kyo was already on top of him. He had both hands clenched to each other and sent them down like a double ax handle. The ninja ate dirt. Kyo knew he had the advantage since these ninja did not have the edge of the shadows to aid them. Plus, Kyo knew the quadrangle gym like the back of his hand, from the numerous times he had to use that same knowledge to escape his groupies. With the first ninja dazed, Kyo focused his attention to the remaining three. Two came from both sides and one from above. Kyo ran towards the stage where announcements were done during assembly. He looked for some wire, but to his despair he found none. Kyo had his back to the wall, and the three ninja under false security charged head on. One was more eager than the rest and flew ahead in a flying kick. Kyo grinned and pushed back the wall behind him. It was a collapsible wall to the ninja's surprise, the same assassin who could not change his flight path. The ninja's kick hit the stage floor and before he could recover, Kyo hopped up and delivered the wave smash. Kyo's left kick led the way and hit the ninja's abdomen, then he followed with his right, which hit square below the jaw and sent the victim up in the air. Kyo not satisfied jumped up to catch up to the rising body and gave it another kick before using the double ax handle again to send him crashing down.

{Two more? Kyo calculated, let's see 4-2=... ?} He decided to put it aside and take on any that were left.

The wind sang out, and Kyo reached for the curtain. He tugged with all his might and the curtain came crashing down, catching all the ninja stars that were meant for his person. The next moment, there was smoke. Smoke bombs. In a matter of seconds the curtain was torn to shreds, and when the ninja examined the remains, they found no trace of Kyo. Before they knew it, Kyo appeared out of nowhere and grabbed one of them by the neck. Kyo charged his hand and it slowly began to erupt into red yellow flames. His hand exploded and sent the unconscious fireball of a ninja flying back, pinning his comrade.

Kyo collared the remaining ninja and questioned him. Kusanagi ninjas, Kyo thought. He had been stalked for almost his entire life by these assassins. Not taking to his father's sins lightly, even Kyo had to pay his debts too... The ninja handed him a letter and when Kyo read it, it seemed that there was more to the affair than what he thought.

"Kusanagi wants you back..." The ninja said. "They want you to fight against Yagami. If you survive the duel..."

"What?!" Kyo snapped angrily.

"You will be allowed to live a peaceful life.

"I don't want to get involved in that you bastard!" Kyo yelled in his face. "What did my father die for then!"

"Ha ha... The ninja chuckled... but I know the identity of the man who killed your father. Master Kusanagi knows... In the paper..." The ninja wheezed as he ran out of breath and fainted before Kyo realized he was choking the man.

Kyo looked at the letter and it revealed the name of the killer, ...Iori Yagami.

...

"Natsuko come on, please?" Yuriko begged.

"I don't want anything to do with Kyo, okay!" Natsuko sounded annoyed. "I'll never do it!"

...

Natsuko stood under the shadow of the cherry blossom tree cursing herself. {How do I get myself into this mess...} She thought as she examined the gift in her hand. {Why can't Yuriko give this to Kyo herself... The things I do for that spineless girl... If only she wasn't my best friend...} She held her grocery bag in her left hand and tossed the package in her right as she waited by the gate for Kyo.

...

"What was that all about?" Holiday asked Kyo.

"Just old friends..." Kyo smiled sarcastically.

"It was awesome, you're so smart using the stage and stuff..."

"Read this!" Kyo said as he gave a piece of paper to Holiday. "It will explain everything."

"F" Holiday said in confusion.

"What the Fu..." Kyo said immediately upon withdrawing the sheet.

"They attacked you because you failed your math test?" Holiday looked dumbfoundedly.

Kyo looked at the crumpled sheet and it was his math test which he handed to Holiday by accident. "No No, this is..."

Kyo was cut short by the parade of girls waiting for him by the gate to walk home with him.

"Whoa! And with that show you put up lunch time, they won't let you off easy, man!" Holiday called as he signaled Kyo to run for his life.

Kyo patted Holiday on the back and waved as he began his run, the girls in close pursuit. He ran down the street, through the alleys, knocked over some garbage cans and double backed to the school, with no luck.

Natsuko watched Kyo speed away and hated herself even more. {Why do I have to degrade myself for this guy... "I promise, okay", she remembered herself say earlier to Yuriko and sped of to catch Kyo."}

Seeing the double back as useless, he decided to cut through the park. Natsuko got angrier as the chase went on and decided to take a short cut and hope to corner Kyo once he got to the other entrance of the park.

...

Kyo pushed the branches aside and leapt over the shrubs.

"Kyo-chan, wait! Walk home with me."

"I love you Kyo!"

"I'll die for you."

Kyo smiled for a moment and then put his mind back on his path. {I love you... three words said when the heart and body go fonder lose all rational thought.} Kyo skidded through a pile of leaves and tried to regain his footing and ran though the falling pinwheels. {Die for me? Yeah, I'm sure...} Kyo saw the back entrance of the park and smiled in relief. He was home free. In his excitement, he noticed that his pen was slowly sticking out from his front pocket, and Kyo's footing suffered as he tried to regain his balance and pop the pen back in. He fumbled with his thin leather portfolio in his hand to try to get to his pen when Natsuko appeared in front of him. Kyo skidded to a halt and the pen flew out, right into Natsuko's grocery bag.

Natsuko, was far from happy and relieved that she had finally caught up to Kyo. She was going to hand him Yuriko's gift when Kyo looked behind him, and upon seeing the horde closing in, grabbed Natsuko by the wrist and ran off with her. He looked up to Natsuko, she didn't seem like the groupie type. Her hair was light red and went up to her ears. No earrings, no makeup, simple girl. Kyo apologized to the girl and upon deciding that she wasn't part of the others, went on. Without any time to figure out what was going on, Natsuko stumbled and was forced to run off with him.

...

After another ten minutes of pursuit, Kyo and Natsuko rested in an alleyway and took a breather. After a moment of rest Natsuko stood up and got Yuriko's gift to give to Kyo and get the whole fiasco over with. {Damn womanizer... Natsuko thought.}

"Hi!" Kyo looked up as he got his strength back.

{What now? You going to hit on me?} Natsuko wondered.

"I need something from you..."

"What do YOU want!?" Natsuko spit out.

"Do you have my pen?" Kyo asked politely.

"Eh?" Natsuko muttered.

"I think it's in your bag." Kyo said between pants.

"Uh,... sure..." Natsuko dug in her bag and pulled out Kyo's pen.

"Thank you very much. Sorry I had to drag you through all this... I didn't want to get your bag back there." Kyo explained. "So, did you were going to do something back there right?"

Kyo combed his hair with his hands and smiled innocently, his warm eyes catching Natsuko's.

"Uh.. this... this..." Natsuko stammered.

"Oh... Thanks..." Kyo smiled as he took the present. "Your name?"

"It's.. its from... the pre.." Natsuko began as she clenched her fists to get her words straight.

"What's your name?" Kyo asked again fearing he had said it too softly.

"Ah... Ko... ko.. Kobayashi... Kobayashi Natsuko..." Natsuko stammered as she felt her cheeks starting to warm up.

"Nice name..." Kyo said. "I should take you out for coffee some time, sorry about what happened. I'll have to repay you."

Kyo approached her and Natsuko backed up until she hit the alley wall. With nowhere else to go, Natsuko only closed her eyes in fright, but somehow she didn't want to run away, as if her legs and mind didn't want her to move from her place. She sensed Kyo getting closer and closer.

"Are you into lemon?" Kyo said calmly. Natsuko blushed furiously and didn't know what to do. She began to shake all over and sweat feverishly drenching her shirt, all the way into her underwear.

She felt Kyo's hands in hers, and she felt something in it... .. {Hard... round, she thought.. ug... naw... what could... } Natsuko thought.

She opened her eyes and forced herself to look.

"Ja ne! (See ya!)" Kyo waved as he walked away.

Natsuko looked down at her hand and saw a lemon that fell from her grocery bag.

...

EPILOGUE:

Kyo fumbled through his folder and looked for his phone book, with the ninja's letter in the other hand. Along the letter was an invitation, to the King of fighters 1994 tournament... The longer he looked at the letter the angrier he became. He clenched his fists and set his eyes on the glass phone booth. When he cocked his hands back, he somehow remembered his dying fathers words, about how much fighting and violence destroyed him and the Yakuza's name. The Yakuza were once peacekeepers his father said. They fought for the people against feudal dictators who spread tyranny over Japan, but their power, it destroyed them, and they became nothing but violent animals.

How Ironic, Kyo thought that he must repeat the same cycle his father gave his life to avoid just to avenge his death. No matter how civilized an individual or a society becomes, it all boils down to one thing.. Fighting... Fighting and fighting until there is nothing left...

Kyo flipped through his little pocket phonebook and went to N... Ni.. Nika... Nikaido... Bennimaru Nikaido Kyo said out loud as he put a coin in the phone and dialed.

The rustling in his pocket caught Kyo's attention... It was the gift Natsuko gave to him. Kyo looked at the card and read it with a smile [To Kyo, From Natsuko], how convinient it would was to be in Yuriko's handwriting...


	10. Dear Friends,

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Dear my friend,

Before I went away, I had been blind and forgotten to say 'thank you'. It's okay to fight the society, and be who you want to be. If you are angry then hurt me; if you are sad, then take my hand… Remind me of yesterday and follow me… Join me to tomorrow, before we die, we can conquer [ourselves], and in doing so, we conquer the [world].

In the end, I would rather be the [betrayed] than be the [betrayer].

Join me, let's stop the end of world.

-the ode to Johnny.1995

-08.28.04

**Chapter 10: Dear Friends,**

"I hurt myself today, to see if I can still feel; I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real... What have I become? My sweetest friend, everyone I know, goes away in the end. You can have it all; I will let you down, I will let you hurt...

-Nine Inch Nails

...

"You ask me why I am so cold? Why I don't believe in affection and love?" Iori said to Eiji in a sad, stern voice. "It is because I NEVER had any friends. Friends are only for the weak. In this life you have to care only for yourself... Noone else! Why direct your dreams upon someone else!?"

The clock rang threee bongs and a chime. It was 3:15. The wind blew in their eyes but they didn't even blink, and Iori turned around saving Miyuki from seeing his true self. Sparing her from seeing the hate in him. A child should never see a fight.

"BE STRONG, my father said, and with that he took all my friends away..." Iori picked up his leather folder and walked back towards home, leaving an unmoving Eiji and clueless Billy, with their backs to the sunset.

...

A six year old Iori looked out of his window like a dried up old crone, trapped within the protective walls of Yagami palace, in his dark unlit room he seeked his only refuge. The light switch was unworn and dusty, probably from years of neglect. It was a spacious room. Next to Iori's window was his grand futon, a desk and chair in the other end, and rows of closets and drawers. It was a silent evening, just after sunset, and he looked out to the acres and acres of open land outside the perimeters of Yagami Palace.

Yagami palace was far away from civilization, hidden away under the protection of nothingness, open lands, this nothingness, proved amble and effective security.

A dream security.

The silence was calming, it put a smile on his face, but just for a moment. Time had no meaning then. The dark peaceful room was a place where he could think. Deprived of his childhood, he only had himself.

When most children would play and laugh amongst friends and family, Iori sat by his window and thought. Why... The reasons behind his existence. Seeing no drive in life but to be strong, to become the best, to rule and conquer. Such were the idioms taught to him by his father. Those are the only reasons to live in the world.

He sat down on the floor with his back to the wall, and slowly let his eyes focus in the blackness. He reached for the pole that held his window open and it came down with a loud crash. Pitch black, alone. Children fear the dark, because it harbours the unknown, but Iori loved it, for he knew about the darkness, in it you can really see yourself. What you really are. In the most peaceful of nights you could hardly see anything, you could feel your surroundings. {Alone..., Iori realized, I am alone}. This is the reason for existence. In the dark peaceful room you gained knowledge about solidarity. It would be you against the whole world. He held his finger up and it produced a soft purple flame, a faint light which left Iori exhausted, but after a few seconds he would do it again, and again.

Five... Four... Three... he counted to himself slowly. Each one a mental note of what he once thought was a reason to continue on with his existence. It was a long list at first... To smile, to laugh, to learn from tutors, to run in the grass and feel security amongst his harem of servants who raised him. Mother... He extended all ten fingers and as the time went they started to extinguish one by one... My mother is dead, and with that one flame snuffed, I am not a child anymore... and another died. One by one... Two were left... I hate you...father... This left one purple demon which floated down to his palm.

"And then there is me..." Iori whispered to the emtiness who listened intently when noone else would. With that he snuffed the flame in his hands.

...

During the morning Iori would take his lessons form his tutor, Russ Walker, language, history, science, and by lunchtime he would sometimes ask his tutor to show him some television.

"But your father strictly said not to..." His tutor hypocritically replied, grinning between breaths.

With a snap of Iori's fingers, one of his young female servants came into the room. Here is the usual payment.

"As you wish Iori sama..." The servant girl said monotonously while bowing low.

Iori wondered what his tutor ever wanted with the young girls but he didn't care, it was his Yakuza blood probably, to satisfy the worldly desires of the people.

Commercials utterly fascinated Iori to no end, it was his only link to the outside world. It was just flashes of streaming unrelated information, surging his brain and looping over and over. Feeding his curious mind. Soon his father found out, and had Russ Walker killed. And without the black box, another flame flickered and died.

...

By the afternoon, Iori took a short stroll out in the vast meadow. He felt the breeze kiss his cheeks, and felt safe in the vast emptiness. He stretched his arms and let out a scream.

"Take me now. ROAR!" He bellowed.

"What's wrong with you?" came a voice from behind him.

Iori instinctively turned around and sent his hands up in guard. Behold there was a little girl just a little shorter than Iori. She had rosy cheeks and a little smile that stood out from her short yellow raincoat and hat. Occationally, children would take field trips to that part of Japan, but the children never dared to venture near Yagami Palace. 'It is a place where Demons and Ogres lived' warned their teachers. Bad people live there and you shouldn't go near it.

Iori always looked at the happy children running around from his window, but they never came, never saw him, as if he never existed. How jealous and painful he felt inside. He was like the darkness, which children were afraid of. Happy children never questioned their fear of the dark, or why they shouldn't go near Yagami palace. Iori and the darkness were the same.

"Do you want to play?" She asked.

"Play?" Iori said slowly, never having the opportunity to use the term before.

"Yeah, here... take this ball." she said smiling...

Iori held the sphere in his palms awkwardly. Rolling it from one hand to the other musing at what a useless object it must have been. It was hollow, made of paper, and could have been easily crushed by a babe.

"Throw it to me!" the little girl called from a distance of probably two meters away.

Iori smiled wickedly {How retarded this is... he thought.} Digging his feet to the ground, he threw it with all his might. Not wanting to look stupid by throwing a paper ball around, he made it look like it was a fight. He grit his teeth and threw, but to his surprise, the ball slowed down in mid air and floated to the girl.

"Nice!" She said, and returned the paper ball gently. It glided gracefully in the air, and fell into Iori's waiting hands.

Iori turned red and irritated. He mustered up all his anger and hate, not wanting to be showed off by another, he threw the ball with both hands cocked back as far back as it could go. This was to no avail... It seemed like the harder he threw it the more tired and slower it would fly through the air.

"Softly... Softly..." The girl teased. "Like this..." and she tossed it up in the air effortlessly. Iori caught the ball again, and snarled at his futile efforts, so he tossed it back like he was told, and it glided smoothly. It didn't jerk or lose path, or fell. It floated peacefully right to her hands. The little girl smiled and tossed it back. The game went on for ten minutes probably, each tossing the paper ball back and forth. Iori's face twisted with both shame and frustration, but he was still returning the ball, sometimes tossing it softly, others trying to send it like a rock to her face. The sun started to set and Iori realized that he had been playing for too long.

"I have to go home..." She said.

With that Iori breathed deep one last time and tossed the ball as softly and gently as he could. The paper ball flew in a perfect arc, landing to her waiting hands. For some reason that Iori couldn't understand, his chest didn't feel heavy anymore, and he felt warm despite the cold wind.

"See you tomorrow." She waved.

"Ano... Anata no namae wa? (uh... Your name?)" Iori stuttered.

"Miyuki... Miyuki..." she said. "Miyuki to moushimasu."

...

The Yagami servants gossiped amongst themselves as to how strange Iori-sama had been acting for the past few days, seemingly... cheerful, they muttered. Tutoring came and went for Iori, as well as practice, putting his best effort to get it done. He breezed through lectures, finished homework, and did away with the practice dummies he had for training. He looked at the large clock tower that was in the Yagami courtyard, what was once seemingly useless was now the pinnacle of Iori's life... Just a few more minutes and it would be four fifteen. Iori raced through the gate-keepers and ran as free and worryless as a bird. Never had Iori felt such desire in his life. What could this feeling be, he mused. He ran and ran as fast as he could and as always Miyuki was waiting for him by the old cherry blossom tree.

He hardly sat in his room anymore. He didn't want to become strong or fight. He got better with his 'trick', and one by one his fingers would light up.

It was a peculiar feeling to Iori, having someone other than his servants to talk to. He would occasionally get mad at Miyuki for disagreeing with him.

"No, I think pineapples are better than cantaloupes." Miyuki would say.

Iori would fume and instinctively cock his fist back, but he slowly began to change... It felt strangely nice to meet someone who didn't agree with everything you said. Unlike the numerous servants who would bow down to his wishes, Miyuki was... different. She didn't want him to talk in a loud tone, she didn't want him to frown, and she always said what she felt. Children are so open with their emotions and feelings, and you must praise them for that. Something sorely lacking in the adolescent society.

Miyuki lived with her parents who were simple farmers and sent her to school in the city, and would catch a ride with one of their neighbours who worked in a construction site down in Little Italy. Iori always wondered why she wasn't scared like the rest of the city children. It was probably because of her upbringing. Simple folk are very trusting, kind, and open, unlike city kids. It's not the city children per se, but more of what their urbanized elders feed to them.

Miyuki was always picked on by the school children who lived in the city. They called her country girl and other mean things. Children may be innocent, but they can be the most horrible individuals once they start losing what they once had inside and give way to the process of 'growing up'. However, especially on field trips, they never dared insult Miyuki when Iori was around. Occasionally, there would be a brave, or very stupid boy who would spit out an insult at Miyuki. Iori's eyes would become slits, and his stare struck fear into the other children, to the point that a mere look would make someone pee in his pants. It never got to blows though. No matter how angry or how hurt Miyuki felt, she would stop Iori...

"Don't fight, it's wrong." Miyuki pleaded to Iori.

For the first time in his life Iori felt responsibility towards someone other than himself. It was his duty to look over Miyuki and not let her be hurt, but she saw her scared eyes when he got angry. {Fight...? Iori thought over and over...}

...

Upon returning home one day Iori confronted his waiting father. Yagami-sama blocked his path to the gates, arms crossed and a disappointed frown on his face. It was time for practice and Yagami-sama was waiting for his favourite son to come and spar with him.

"Otou-san (father), I do not want to train anymore." Iori said forcefully, something he never dared do before.

"Idiot!" Yagami-sama growled.

Iori's rational thought came back for a moment, but he dismissed his fears and stood to his convictions.

"I do not want to fight anymore." Iori said again. "I do not want to spend my whole day studying and fighting anymore..."

"It is the child..." Yagami-sama said sternly with a furious look in his eyes. "I thought you would see the futility of such things... but I guess I was wrong. Iori do not defy me!"

With that, Yagami-sama turned around and marched back to the main complex without another word. Iori felt a different kind of fear, fear probably induced from his knowledge, knowledge of the adult world which never passed the minds of other stupid children.

Usually he would take physical punishment from his father. The kicks and beatings were truly painful, but Iori was in control. He wouldn't cry out, and when it was over it was over. When he stumbled back to his room, he was safe, and able to live for another day. He would never ever cry out.

This time it was different, his father left without raising his fist. This worried Iori because he was aware. He felt uneasy not knowing what his father was about to do, but at the same time he wasn't naive and could guess the inevitable.

...

The next day he sped off to meet Miyuki by the cherry blossom tree. Wishing and hoping, but his fears were confirmed when he didn't see the smile on her face.

"My family has to leave." She said between sobs. Iori wanted to tell her everything, he wanted to tell her about his father and he wanted to fight it, but he knew it was futile. In the most sorrowful moments Iori laughed. He laughed out loud, as hard as he could. Miyuki didn't feel insulted, but just didn't understand the reason behind it. {How ironic, Iori thought to himself. This is a simple country child, who was not afraid to go against me, Iori Yagami, but I don't have the courage to go against my own father.} Iori thought up excuses, he wanted to comfort her, or offer an explanation, but he couldn't, so he did the only thing he could. Laugh. He laughed so hard until it hurt, until tears flowed down his smiling face. Until he could no longer feel or think anymore.

"Here, take care of her." Miyuki said quietly as she handed a snow white kitten to Iori.

Iori stopped laughing and looked at the cat that was in his hands, and after a while, let it drop to the grass. He hated the cat, he hated Miyuki's parents, he hated the tree, he hated his father... Miyuki said goodbye and walked away as the sunset. This time she wasn't coming back. He felt water go down his cheek, and then drops, tears from the heavens. The peaceful breeze suddenly howled, deafeneningly. The rain poured, and stung him. It made the kitten curl up by Iori's feet. Tense claws spread wide in defiance, Iori let out a primal scream, but the thunderclap dulled it. He wanted to tear the cat limb from limb, but when he held it, he couldn't. He saw himself in the kitten, so weak and it relied so much for Iori's protection. It reminded him of how he relied too much on his father, that like that cat, he was a pet whom Yagami-sama played god over, no different from the rest of the Yagami servants. I have to get away, Iori thought to himself... out of this goddamn place.

Iori staggerd in the rain, all the while keeping the kitten in his jacket to keep it safe.

...

"Kill the cat." Yagami-sama commanded Iori.

Iori knew he couldn't hide Miyuki's last gift forever. He tried so hard to do so, but as always it all ended in failure. In the eyes of his father, he was powerless, and was destined to fail miserably.

"Kill... IT!" The voice echoed.

Iori looked blankly at his father, trying to think up the words in defiance, but his father stared down at him. Yagami-sama's glare destroyed his will, it made him feel inferior. His father just grabbed the kitten from Iori's hands and threw it to the wall. There was a weak cry, before the kitten rolled and started to shake. At this point Iori had lost everything, he had lost his courage, Miyuki, and he lost himself. He walked over to the shivering kitten and squatted.

"Kurushii na no kai? Does it hurt?" Iori whispered, and he slowly saw the fear from the kitten's eyes disappear for its master was going to save her. "I will set you free..."

**I WILL SET YOU FREE.**

Iori stroked the white kitten's cheek softly, eliciting a slight purr and warn sensation from the baby. He rubbed her cheeks as If it was second nature, then, held the kitten's neck firmly and broke it with one twist. He looked at it's limp body hanging by his fingers, and he cried. What had just died in his hands was more than the kitten, more than Miyuki, it was Iori who died. All those memories died.

"I envy ... envy you..." Iori cried softly, his words breaking from his sobs. "But I was stronger." He poked his fingers into the carcass and blood ran down his fingers and hands. {Die Die Die, he said to himself.} With you, will die all the hurt, all the weakness. I will find the hate. The red blood streamed down. It felt warm and painful to the touch. Iori bit down on his tongue hard, for he knew his show of suffering would only please his grinning father.

**I WILL SET YOU FREE.**

Instead, Iori did what he had always done, his only refuge. He laughed again. Insane. Bellowing across the rooftops. Louder and louder until his mind was blank. Purple. The purple flames burned away any trace of the body; Iori's memories. The colour purple that cleansed the mind body, and soul.

...

EPILOGUE:

Iori sat in his room like he had done before, with his back against the wall. Total pitch blackness enveloped him. It offered comfort, the darkness. Always ready to listen, and offer no criticisms.

Five... Four... Three... he counted to himself slowly. Each one a mental note of what he once thought was a reason to continue on with his existence. It was a long list at first... To smile, to laugh, to learn from tutors, to run in the grass and feel security amongst his harem of servants who raised him. Mother... He extended all ten fingers and as the time went they started to extinguish one by one... Miyuki is dead, and with that one flame snuffed, I am not a child anymore... and another died. One by one... Two were left... I hate you...Iori... This left one purple demon which floated down to his palm.

He let the flame burn more, feeding it with his emotions. It rose and flickered wildly as he smiled.

"I will grow up, be strong, and then I will be free..." Iori promised.


	11. Redemption

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

You know what I wonder sometimes… When people can't find a more meaningful purpose in their lives or a greater calling what do they do?

Do they just bury themselves in their job, just wishing for a pat on the back and suffering so that all could see them? They make others look bad so that they can justify their existence?

We can get married, have a nice house, have children, maybe a lovely pet in our sweet sweet home?

Has it been this way for a long time? Is it silly to strive for something better, to be stronger without making another suffer?

"When you encounter a man who smiles so fearlessly, so bright and full of life – you can be assured that, this man has seen the fires of hell."

-Judas Gospel.

-09.02.04

**Chapter 11: Redemption**

"Here is your new desk job." The warden uttered nonchalantly to Jenny, the newbie secretary. Jenny, in turn nervously flashed a hypocrite smile and carefully laid her box on the small desk in front of her. It was nothing special, just a bland wooden desk with no frills or glass and steel trim, but then she wasn't any hotshot executive she thought. It was only for a summer job. She would take messages, refer people, and basically sell her smile to visitors. It was all for a change of impression the warden probably thought. Of all the many jobs she could've taken it had to be this. Well, it did pay better than most waitress jobs, so she was sort of content she rationalized.

The place she worked in was C.H. Penitentiary, the only penitentiary in New Hong Kong. Situated in K.H. Korea, not much of a residential town, but then again who would want to settle down in such a place where highway mile markers had signs that said "PLEASE DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS" plainly next to it.

As she unpacked her box of stationery and Jae Hoonks, she wondered if this place would be condusive to her frail and impressionable teenage health, both physical and mental. She WAS in a place that housed dangerous criminals, crazed lunatics, and worst of all...

"PERVERTED MANIACS!" She said out loud, palms pressing down on her cheeks... The two guards who were standing by the front door looked at her in surprise. Jenny quickly regained her composure and flashed the smile that won her the desk job. She sighed and giggled a bit, as the guards went back to their game of cards without realizing what just happened.

{I hate this place already.} Jenny complained to herself, all the while standing up pencil cups and setting up the electronic typewriter provided by the warden. {I hate it I hate it...} she continued... {All I want is to have a great boyfriend, a cute pet and a sweet, sweet home... ^_^} Jenny looked up from her mess and fantasized about a wonderful summer. Maybe this summer she would meet the man of her dreams, but something snapped in her mind and she realized the horrible looking inmates she might see in this dump. {Yuck...} She thought and went on with her cleaning. {I hate.. I ha...}

"Excuse me, do you know where the warden is?" Came a voice... "He is expecting me."

{I ha...} Jenny stopped in mid-thought. She looked up rather annoyed but it all suddenly changed when she saw the man looking down at her with half closed puppy eyes.

"I'm here for the parole program..." He flashed a very warm and polite smile.

{Ug...} Without warning, Jenny felt her chest tighten and her cheeks warm up. Even though she told herself not to, she couldn't help but examine the man standing in front of here from head to toe. In front of her was the cutest guy she had ever seen in her entire life...

{He must be a model... No he is a model I am sure...} A smiling boyish looking cutie was standing right in front of her. He was wearing a white T-shirt underneath a cream-yellow sportscoat. His undercut hair made him look even more boyish, and Jenny couldn't hide the expression on her face that was screaming 'TAKE ME, TAKE ME NOW...' Jenny dropped all of her stuff and frantically shifted though her papers to look for the intercom.

"Uh... You have a nice...uh... jacket" she stuttered, not knowing how to go about with a conversation. For once her inventory of cold and fake conversation starters couldn't come to mind.

"Thank you." The man widely smiled, making his eyes squint more. The smile looked so fake, so unreal and made for TV, she wondered if it was anything but innocently genuine.

"Warden, there is someone here to see you... uh..." Jenny paused...

"Kim..." The man said. "Kim Kap Hwan..."

"Sigh... Mister Kim Kap Hwan..." Jenny cooed, but cleared her throat as soon as she realized that she was flirting with the telephone. "AHEM! He is here for the program..."

Jenny put down the phone and was thinking for the death of her what to say, or else she'd surely lose him.

"Uh..." Jenny started...

"You know, I have never seen you here before..." Kim said. "You make the place look friendlier." Jenny swooned and thanked her lucky stars, at last she could make something of her life... Have her handsome boyfriend, her cute pet and her sweet sweet home...

"Uh.. what is the Parole Program anyway?" Jenny asked, It is my first day here."

"Oh...:" Kim answered... "It is where citizens take inmates out... to picnics and walks in the park and things like that..."

{UUUUUUU!} Jenny gripped her skirt in angst... {I wish _I_ was a felon, then I could go out with this cutie... NNNNGGG!} As Jenny was shivering in anxiety, she suddenly bit her tongue... {eek!} She thought as she covered her mouth... {This is not a good sign} And there she went with her superstitious 'horoscope' self.

A lady stepped out behind Kim, "Kim, do you really think it is safe here?" She asked.

Jenny examined the lady behind Kim. Not bad looking... She was wearing a long skirt. Nothing flashy. Pretty plain and simple.

"Your girlfriend?" Jenny asked both scared and annoyed.

"Oh, her?" Kim said as he waved his palm in front of her jokingly.. "No she's not." Kim laughed softly.

Jenny let out a big breath she was keeping in all that time and smiled to herself. Her dream wasn't jeopardized... {Must be his older sister...} Jenny smiled in relief.

"She's my wife." Kim said, still smiling his close eyed smile.

{MY WIFE!?} The words penetrated Jenny and sent her soul falling a hundred stories. {NOOOOOOO!} She echoed in her mind... A sweat drop ran down the side of her temple.

"'To-san... (Dad)" Came a voice tugging on his pants. "I'm tired of holding Jae Hoon." complained a little boy, Dong Hwan, who was holding a baby boy wrapped in pink sheets.

"Okay, son give Dong Hwan to Mommy..." Kim coaxed, STILL with the smile on his face. "You're a good boy Dong Hwan."

{SON!} Jenny cried out inside once again, now the number of sweatdrops increased and strands of her hair started poking out from the rest of her earlier, neatly 100 stroke combed hair.

"And Jae is..." Jenny was afraid to ask...

"My newborn son..." Kim said.

{SON.. SON.. WIFE... SON... WIFE..!?} The words mocked her as she strangled her skirt.

"Well, got to go now, nice meeting you..." Kim looked down at her desk.. "..Jenny.. hope you have a nice super wonderful summer." Kim and his family waved as they went through the gate next to Jenny and into the penitentiary proper.

Jenny bit her skirt and wanted to tear it to shreds... {NO NO NO NO!...} she roared in defiance. The two guards obviously still played cards... "BULLSHIT!" one called...

...

Jonathan, a prison guard with a 12 gauge Remmington 870 pump shotgun slung across his chest, escorted them to Kim's 'adopted' inmates' cell.

"We should have more nice people like you Kim-san" Jonathan said sincerely. "If there were more happy families like yours this town would be a better place."

"But you'd be out of a job then..." Kim said as he laughed a soft 'Mister Rogers' laugh. Jonathan laughed back. (Yes I have met him in person and Rogers is awesome. RIP)

"True, true..." Jonathan said. "Here we go... Chang... You take care of him now, and the missus and kids too. Beautiful son..."

The iron bars slid to the side, opening the cell. These cells were built for only one, but they had to make an exception and tore down the walls separating two adjacent cells to make room for this behemoth, Chang Koehan. The sounds of chains could be heard echoing from the dark corners of the cell, and Myon Saku, Kim's wife, and Don hid behind Kim. Kim on the other hand was full of energy, and skipped into the cell.

"Oiiii! CHANG! Ohaiiiyooo Gooozaiimasu! (Hey! CHANG! Goood Moorniing!)" Kim smiled. A bald headed, bloated man stood up and walked slowly towards Kim. As he stepped into the light Myon Saku took a step back from the cell, and Jonathan's eyes twitched.

"Good Morning!" Kim said again, clapping his hands exuberantly and sporting his 'Mister Rogers' smile.

Chang, unshaven and his dark gray uniform, much too small for him, only grunted and stooped down to pick up the iron ball that was chained to his ankle with just one hand. The black iron ball was about as large as his head, maybe bigger, but he lifted it with ease. Chang slinged it over his shoulder, menacingly, but Kim still smiled a warm smile.

Chang's brows tightened, but as soon as he heard the familiar CLACK CLACK cock of Jonathan's shotgun, he eased out and put the iron ball in both of his palms and eased hi shoulders, showing that he wasn't going to try anything. Jonathan escorted them into the briefing room. There was a long table with chairs around it.

"Just like the police TV shows..." Kim said as he usually did. "But where are the double sided mirrors?"

"Kim-san, this is a briefing room, not an interrogation cell..." Jonathan smiled, getting somewhat tired of saying the line every-single-time he took Kim to that room. Jonathan slung his hand behind his neck and chuckled as he fiddled with his hat.

"Okay, I will take it from here. Leave the Myon Saku and the kids with me, I will be fine." Kim said, inviting Jonathan to leave them alone.

Jonathan waited until all of them were seated... Kim's family on one side and Chang on the other before leaving the room and going back to his post at the gate next to Jenny.

...

Myon Saku held Jae Hoon in her arms and sat uneasily in the chair, making sure that Kim was between her and the giant.

"So how has it been going, Chang?" Kim asked. "Where do you want to go today? Do you like Chinese food?" Kim received no answer, but still eagerly assaulted Chang with questions and smiled intently. "I LOVE Chinese food.. it has a nice sweet taste that mixes with a bunch of interesting and contrasting flavours. AND all at once too."

"Why did you have to bring her..." Chang growled in a low tone that made Myon Saku move her chair an inch away.

"Oh, sorry, let me introduce you to Myon Saku, she's my wife and these are my kids, Dong Hwan and Jae Hoon..."

"I know THAT!" Chang bellowed as he slammed his fat hands on the table rose from his chair and angrily approached Kim's family. Chang pushed Kim aside and put his hand on Myon Saku, who was holding on to Jae Hoon tightly. Myon Saku started to cry in fright and Dong hugged his mother by the legs to try and pull her away.

"So THIS is Mister Roger's wife... HA!" Chang called. Kim walked calmly to Chang and put his hand to his shoulder then to his wrist and eased him until he let go of his wife...

Kim STILL smiling, "Now now, Chang, that isn't nice..."

"Dear, I think it is time for us to go, take the kids outside... Let's walk in the park..." Kim invited. Myon Saku immediately grabbed her son and raced out the door, leaving her husband behind in her fright.

"Chang..." Kim smiled...

...

Jenny furiously organized her desk and cursed at her bad luck. Just then, Jonathan had come back from escorting Kim and his family.

"Whew..." Jonathan sighed as he wiped his brow.

"Eh?" Jenny said to the guard.

"Oh, you're the new girl?" Jonathan said. "I'm Jonathan, pleased to meet you." He extended his hand and shook Jenny's. "So I see you've met Kim and his family.. Great guy there!"

"Uh.. yeah..." Jenny mumbled.

"He's a model you know..." Jonathan said. Invisible daggers started stabbing Jenny's chest. Surely walking into a wall repeatedly (that means many may many times) would have hurt less.

"He's got a great wife too..." He continued. More knives came to Jenny, now making her head a welcoming, virtual pincushion.

"So, What does he do here anyway?" Jenny asked, brushing her hair and combing away with the invisible daggers.

"Oh, he's part of the Parole program... He reforms convicts..." Jonathan said.

"Yeah..." Jenny said, not really paying any attention.

"He's the best the program's got. He reformed so many felons. Bloodthirsty guys for the most. He's dealing with Chang Koehan now, and also Choi Bounge starting today."

"So, what is Chang in for?" Jenny said calmly while filing her nails.

"They say he killed his wife."

"EH!?" Jenny looked up shocked.

"Yeah, found her sleeping with another guy and cut them both them both." Jonathan said in a spooky tone.

"Cut them?" Jenny stammered.

"Yeah! He just went NUTS and started WHACKING them on the spot. By the time the cops came it was a slaughterhouse in the room, unrecognizable pulps of guts and body parts everywhere.. . it was a MASSACRE I tell you A MASSACRE!"

"And Choi?" Jenny asked in fear, expecting the worst."

"Ugh! He's a psycho... He butchers children." Jonathan said grimly serious. "Children."

...

Chang collected himself and pushed Kim to the half open door, slamming it shut.

"I hate you, Kim!" Chang bellowed. "You treat me like a kid! Don't patronize me!"

For the first time, Kim shut up and listened.

"You come here, play mister good guy... and think you can play dad over me!" Chang continued. "Well, I don't need you! You show off your wife to me even though you know what happened. You think she's so sweet and loving. How long have you been with her... 3 years 4? HA! Once you get married, the magic is over. It doesn't last, and soon she cheats on you..."

"Shut up!" Kim yelled.

"Eh?" Changed looked down, to a puny man in his eyes.

"SHUT UP!" Kim growled, as his eyebrows tensed and his canines flashed. He charged towards Chang and sent a knee to his abdomen. Chang, totally unprepared took the blow squarely and wobbled back to the wall. Never even in his wildest dreams had Chang imagined that Kim was capable of fighting, he picked up his iron ball which rolled on the floor next to his feet. As Chang stood up, Kim leapt back and started another run, this time stooping low into a leg sweep. Kim's feet found its way between the giant's legs and with a twist sent Chang off balance, in one motion, Kim's foot sweep dug into the ground and he used the foothold to hop straight up and cocked his other leg up until it touched his shoulder much like a vertical 'split' or an 'ax kick'. Before Chang could descend from the leg sweep, Kim's second ax kick came down and hammered him to the floor. Before Chang could mutter a word, Kim collared him and hoisted him up.

"Don't you ever! EVER.. touch my wife or threaten my children ever again! You understand..." Kim said.. without smiling.

...

"Jonathan-san," Myon Saku said while running. "It's Chang..."

"Shit..." Jonathan spat, and ran over to the room, his shotgun leading the way. Jenny only held her appointment book across her chest uneasily.

...

Jonathan raced to the conference room and with his barrel leading, kicked the door wide open. "KIM-san"

"Jonathan-san," Kim said, now smiling... "The door was unlocked you know..."

In surprise, Jonathan slowly put his shotgun down and saw Chang sitting in a chair, with Kim, his arms slung over Chang's shoulders, smiled like a child hanging by a gorilla's back.

...

After asking about his new assignment, with Choi, Jonathan escorted Kim to the ends of the penitentiary, to the maximum security area.

"Are you sure about this, Kim-san..." Jonathan asked deeply concerned.

"Choi?" Kim asked

"You KNOW what he did..." Jonathan prodded. Chang only looked to the side pretending not to listen. Why DO you do this, Kim-san?" Jonathan asked. "You KNOW these people were found guilty, they're criminals, I wouldn't let my family even BREATHE the same air as these lowlifes."

Chang tensed and his grip on his chain tightened. {Lowlifes?!} Chang said to himself in anger.

"I know, they were found guilty..." Kim said calmly. "I do not question what the law decides... What I do understand is that they did what they did FOR A REASON." Kim said, his index finger pointing skyward with determination.

"Heh... Whatever suits you... Do you still believe in those stories of criminals being falsely accused and shit like that?" Jonathan smirked.

"I do not question whether or not what they did was wrong, I question their true motivations and emotional limitations as humans, this is something justice is blind to." Kim quoted his own bible.

...

A man's own black bible is separate from religion and law.

…

Cell M-01 was in front of the party. After inputting a code in a computer lock, sliding a card, then physically unlocking 5 mechanical locks, the 12 inch metal 'door' swung open with the help of motors, letting some light through the iron bars that kept it's host in check.

"I'm asking you one more time, Kim, ARE YOU SURE?" Jonathan said as he uneasily shuffled his feet and frantically searched for the right keys to the gate."

"Peachy positive... deeee gozaimasu yooo." Kim winked.

"Heh!" Chang grunted. "You're hopeless. A loser!"

"Okay.. we need two people to open the next gate. Chang, if you try anything funny, I'll blow you away. Here's the key." Jonathan unhooked Key number one from the keyring and handed it to Chang. I have Key two, I have to go to the left end and you go to the right end of the bars. We have to unlock it at the same time you got it?"

Chang positioned himself by the right side of the bars, and waited for instructions, not wanting to try anything since the unloved, dark gray, parkerized shotgun didn't look too friendly. Kim stood easily by the crack in between the two where the bars would part. On Jonathan's signal, Chang twisted the key. A clang was heard and gears and motors started whirling as the bars parted.

Kim walked in as soon as he could fit into the slowly opening doors, and with his palms by his mouth, called out "Choiii!"

"KONO O BAKAYARO! (YOU FUCKING IDIOT!)" Jonathan called as the irresponsible Kim waltzed into the dark cell.

...

Kim had to take some time to readjust his pupils to the pitch black interior of the cell. It was stuffy and humid but he could feel some sort of wind rushing by him. He looked around but he could see nothing. He could only hear insane chuckles, sneers, and giggles. He caught a glint of steel and when his eyes focused, he could see a short man, approximately half his height, hanging by a ledge like a canary, snickering, giggling evilly without end.

The thing looked hideous, and frightening, even to Kim. A dark olive drab green shirt, red suspenders, a wide black hat, and he had something in his hands, long fingers? No, they were iron claws. The black steel shined menacingly, and to Kim's horror, they were dripping... blood. Kim felt a sharp pain and realized that his legs wouldn't move on his command. Kim's legs were dripping red, blood red, red as a fresh rose. Kim crouched down and reached for his bloody shins, and bit his lip.

"Jesas Kurayst..." Kim bit.

"OH MOTHER OF GOD!" Jonathan gasped as he rushed towards Kim. He forgot to let go of his key and it dropped off onto the floor. With that release of his key, sirens broke out and the security mechanism kicked in, closing the iron gates.

"SHIT!" Jonathan cursed again! Now, slinging the Remington 870 on his shoulder and away from Chang. Chang saw this. Jonathan searched frantically for the keys, on his hands and knees scouring the floor.

Chang saw his opportunity and let go of his key. Beating an escape. {At last...} Chang rejoiced.

Kim looked up helplessly as he saw in slow motion, Choi leaping into the air, and his claws hungrily chattering against each other. Hungry for blood, meat and bone.

...

"Heh!" Chang grunted. "You're hopeless. A loser!"

"You KNOW what he' did..." Jonathan prodded. Chang only looked to the side pretending not to care. Why DO you do this, Kim-san?" Jonathan asked. "You KNOW these people were found guilty, they're criminals, I wouldn't let my family even BREATHE the same air as these lowlifes." Chang tensed and his grip on his chain tightened. {Lowlifes?!} Chang said to himself in anger.

"I know, they were found guilty..." Kim said calmly. "I do not question that... What I do understand is that they did what they did FOR A REASON."

"Heh... Whatever suits you... Do you still believe in those stories of criminals being falsely accused and shit like that?" Jonathan smirked.

"I do not question whether or not what they did was wrong, I question their motivations, THIS (kore ga ne…) is something justice is blind to." Kim proclaimed proudly, innocently and sincerely.

"Don't you ever! EVER.. touch my wife or threaten my children ever again! You understand..." Kim said.. without smiling.

"Peachy Positive.." Kim called out with a warm smile.

...

Sometimes that is all that it takes. I am a bitter man, but I can still appreciate a smile from a [wonderful] person. You! Smile for me. And the world would be greater for it.

…

"ORA!" came a booming sound as Kim tried to drive to a stand...

Choi screeched eagerly on his descent, but a thundering thrash came to meet him. The sound of metal echoed throughout the chamber. Cries, giggles, screams, clangs, all at once. A large hand wrapped itself around Choi's head as easily as anyone would grip a tennis ball, and rammed Choi into the concrete wall.

Kim looked up panting from fright and the loss of blood to see Chang, pinched between the closing iron bars raging with hydraulic fury on his strong yet mortal human flesh, making the machinery cry out and struggle. Chang shivered all over and the veins on his temples bulged.

His forearm muscles tensed and the pythons of veins on his arm beated and pumped furiously as he forced Choi's head into the concrete. Choi squirmed and flailed like a rabid raccoon as Chang embedded his hand deeper and deeper despite the rabid flaiing of the iron claws ravaging his forearm. Until Choi stopped squirming.

"Little murdering shit..." Chang mumbled in gasps as the gate squeezed the life out of him.

"Chang..." Kim stuttered and reached for Chang's knees with his blood-soaked hands. The giant looked down and gave a grimacing frown at mister Rogers before he fainted between the sandwiching gates.

…

If only to see an innocent smile for another day…

...

EPILOGUE:

With bandaged legs, Kim walked out of the penitentiary with a smile (again as usual). Leaving the frustrated Jenny pouting on her desk, and the half scared Jonathan considering a resignation.

Myon Saku, with Jae Hoon cradled, and Dong in her hands, made sure they walked ahead of the trio who were behind them.

Chang lumbered sluggishly, his tight prison uniform now replaced by a large, loose sweatshirt, which could never hope to cover his bandage wrapped belly entirely. Kim laughed innocently when he looked down at Chang's grey jogging pants, and he still had the iron ball chained to his ankles.

"The key's right here..." Kim teased, as he dangled the keys to Chang's shackle in his fingertips. "Come on, smile... Smile for me."

Chang proudly held his iron ball in his palms, he would rather carry the weight of the raw rusting steel than break.

Behind them was Choi, who had bandages wrapped around his bald head. Moving spastically, and snickering softly to himself. He was licking a lollipop. A grape flavoured one (he doesn't like putting anything blue in his mouth). With that in his hands rather than the claws, he looked so harmless...

Kim smiled and with a pat on Chang's back he grabbed the picnic basket from his wife's arms and led them all to the park.

…

Back by the penitentiary one of the guards called out "GO FISH!"

…

**SMILE : )**

…


	12. Endless Chain

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Everyone has watched movies; but not all really understand the meaning when a loved one dies. So many things you wanted to say. So many images you wanted to burn in your mind. We are all human.

If you love someone, then tell them so – proudly and fearlessly. Tell them "Sorry, but I just wanted to tell you, I love you." It need not be romantic, or even sappy." But do so – it won't make the pain of separation easier but it is a wonderful burden off your shoulders.

Even if they mock you; even if you mock yourself – do it.

I don't want any of my true friends to die again.

-10.16.04

**Chapter 12: Endless Chain**

* * *

**section.01: Saishyuu heikii & Kare wa,**

SWITCH ON

Easy come, easy go… once again he sees the world thru his eyes, from eyes interrupted with a chaotic buzz of static. Crazy black and white patterns on the TV screen that look so out of place, but constant. Everything he saw mimicked the TV, everything he understood and expected in life was based upon his experiences.

To him, the future will always be ruled by the prejudice of the past.

"Perfect!" Sergio roared. "Go! FINISH!"

In absolute horror, his opponent's shoulders weakened and none of his headshots connected with his target. The crowd favourite would lose the finals now.

Then, the music stopped. The raging sound of rock and roll suddenly calmed to a slow tempo of pianos.

"What.. What are YOU DOING?!" Sergio stammered from the observation booth.

The boy let his left hand go and held the gun only with his right hand. Without even looking at his target he calmly released his 6 final winning shots downrange blindly. Each shot ambivalent, yet indifferent at the same time. The audience murmured in awe.

The last 6 shots that was sure to sin the match for the challenger, had failed to hit the head.

The challenger lost the match. With his slide locked back, his gun was empty, and in the end, so was he.

…

Each event in our life we will remember forever, and will forever influence how we welcome the future.

Again the static came and the knob turned counterclockwise, clicking the TV off into a single silver horizontal line. Then darkness.

OFF

…

With a bellow of the steam horn, the transport ferry docked on a nameless island. The clang of chains eased down the drawbridge that exposed its insides. Without a thought, armed men dressed in dark coats and even darker shades surrounded the vessel, welcoming the cars that, one by one, drove down the single road leading from the dock to the sole mansion which marked the center of the island. Mercedes, Bentleys, and Rolls Royces paraded down the bridge, showing off their owners' wealth and power. One automobile caught everyone's attention though. It was a brutish pink Cadillac. Saving no room for etiquette or poise, the monster roared down the path and overtook the smug millionaires that slowly made their way down the road, leaving a dusty cloud in its wake. The armed Asian goons could only stare in both amazement, and disgust at the Cadillac's seemingly 'barbaric' behavior.

GUILTY

Behind the wheel slouched a cheerful middle-aged man dressed in white from head to toe. With a smirk he slid his open palm over his slick back hair, and pulled out two long clumps of hair and let the permed locks dangle in front of his face. Like the rest of the millionaires here he came to see Ching.

The time was right, and business was good as always. For the right price you could get the weapons you needed, from a virus to a missile.

"Eat dust, baby!" The driver waved boorishly, and all the cars behind him could see was the license plate 'RALF'.

...

The pink Cadillac drifted sideways on the abrupt turn and came to a halt by the main gate of Ching's splendid mansion sending clouds of dust in all directions, making the coat and tie security guard cough up.

Slinging his arm over his door, Ralf flashed his smile to the Chinese man who was staring down at him in disgust with his small terse eyes.

"Hey, friend..." Ralf sneered as he combed his hair with his palm. "You gonna let me in?"

The doorman unslinged the walkie-talkie from his back pouch and looked straight up at the gate camera which was linked to the main mansion.

"Hai Koko Gwai Lou ah! ((insult:) It's that foreigner.)"

With that, the sound of motors could be heard and the towering gates in front of Ralf rolled open. The doorman locked a wicked gaze at Ralf and swung his hand left and right signaling that it was okay for Ralf to pass.

"Heh heh, Thank you, baby!" Ralf sarcastically called as he made his car spin and let his engine roar off.

"Fucking Asians," Ralf cussed as soon as he was far enough away from the gate, on the way to the main complex. "Think they own the fucking world..."

...

SWITCH ON

STATIC

A Shuriken (Throwing star) came down and grazed Ralf's wrist. He let out a faint yelp and within seconds 3 Ninja had appeared from the shadows.

Ralf, young and cocky only smiled at the three Ninja who stood proudly at the wincing mongrel in front of them. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get some papers and then get the hell out of the complex. Ralf thought it was boring so he decided to pick a fight, he knew the assassins were following him anyway.

He stood up slowly and smoothened his red and green bandanna and twisted his hair around his fingers.

"Fucking Asians, think you own the world?" Ralf said smugly at the Ninja leader.

"Oh, so the mongrel barks even when cornered?" The leader mocked.

"Your mother's a mongrel you ugly bastard!" Ralf jeered. "That's why you have those masks to cover those things you call faces."

The two Ninja behind the leader snarled menacingly and reached for their swords, but the leader stopped them with an outstretched hand. The two obediently withdrew and tried to pacify their tempers as best as they could.

"You foreigner slime... 'Mercenary' I think you call yourselves... this is all false pride. Proud and arrogant. English speaking, you come here alone thinking yourself superior. Now all you have left is your petty ego." The lead Ninja lectured.

"Well, at least I don't have to hide behind numbers like you, I can hold my own ground..." Ralf returned.

"No, you don't understand. What you mercenaries fail to comprehend..."

"Master, this Gaijin (outsider), has no honor, you are just wasting your breath..." One of his subordinates interrupted. The Ninja master calmly put his palm up and the Ninja fell silent.

"See," The master said to Ralf, "My subordinate follows my orders without question. It is not an issue of fear or obligation. It is of respect. This is something you selfish, bloodthirsty killers can never even begin to understand. We live in honor, under the code of discipline. To train our minds and bodies, killing is a necessary evil we do unlike you who do it for the sake of killing."

"All you do is hide under an empty slogan." Ralf yelled.

With this, five other Ninja appeared from the trees and brandished their swords.

"Come on... ALL OF YOU! Show yourselves." Ralf mocked, "You can't hide in the trees like squirrels!"

This was the last straw, and all the ten remaining Ninja came down with fires in their eyes. The master held his hand up again to calm the Ninja behind him and walked slowly towards Ralf.

"I am not a dog like your kind, mercenary." The master said as he held his sheathed sword out, inviting single combat.

The rest of the Ninja saw the signal and sheathed their swords. One of them called out "Master challenges you to single combat.", making sure this Gaijin knew what the gesture meant.

"You're a fool, Gaijin (outsider). Like the rest of your racist, overconfident kind. What do you hope to accomplish by blurting out these insults. All you are doing is getting my students anger..." The master stopped and stammered in shock, but it was too late.

"And you! Jappy..." Ralf snarled as he beat his fist in midair. "What you failed to realize is you are dealing with a mercenary."

Ralf held the radio which was slung over his head. He reached for the mike and pushed it next to his mouth. "Gabriel, Abigail..." Ralf muttered. "I need some divine intervention. NOW damn it, NOW."

With that command, a shower of bullets came from the hidden. The divine intervention from Ralf's guardian angels came and destroyed the group of ninjas that sat helplessly out in the open.

You… You unhonourable dogs.

{You're right, I am nothing like you...} Ralf thought to himself.

The Ninja did not scream or cry out in their deaths. All their lives was a journey for spiritual upliftment, and to die this way, to be cheated rather that n die cheating was a good was to die as any.

For that one brief moment, when the bodies collapsed like rag dolls to the snipers' fire, Ralf questioned his convictions. He had always thought mercenaries, like any other 'hired' killers were evil, a necessary evil in the business, in the world. He had never known or understood any other code. The Ninja master's words and actions made him think again. The body of the master fell limply in front of him.

Was he weak? Was that why he died?

Ralf kicked the lifeless body in front of him. Weak... that was the only reason he could muster. An empty slogan, a weak excuse to calm down a confused conscience.

The darkness had no sound to answer him except for the full-automatic bolts slamming shut, loading a fresh new magazine into the ruthlessly judging Springfield M14s.

Clark, voiceless as always walked past his comrade, leading the way, with Ralf behind, still – and not willing to move, and still he never received his answer.

STATIC

OFF

...

After some glasses of champagne, some small talk, and a number of Hour'Deurves, Ching, the weapon monger, trotted down his towering staircase to meet his guests in the dining room. Ching wasn't impressive at all. He was a short Chinese man, with a long, typical, sporadic mustache and a goatee. He had two European women slung in each of his arms, and had a fat cigar in his mouth. He too was dressed all in white, from his coat, tie, trousers, to his shoes. He smugly gazed over his numerous customers who paraded in his home like eager penguins, and shrugged a bit when he saw the sole man dressed in white.

Ching cussed in disgust but just straightened his outfit and smiled at his mindless bimbos. Taking two crackers topped with shrimp and cream in his palm and a glass of champagne, Ralf chugged them both down and wolfed the glass bottoms up as if they were crunchy painkillers.

"Nice jacket..." Ralf grinned. "Great accessories too..." while looking at the clueless female escorts.

I DON'T CARE

Ching ignored the arrogant wretch and raised both his arms up to make himself the center of attention.

"Gentlemen... Thank you all for coming to my humble island." Ching called. "Welcome... But before business let's have some lunch at the dining room. My servants will lead the way."

With that the penguins and the grinning polar bear were lead into a magnificent dining room. Like cattle they were herded in, almost in single file.

"Hey, move it slowpoke." Ralf immaturely sneered at a very annoyed man. "Move your ass, I'm hungry." Ralf cut in the line and the businessmen kept their distance as if the man had a contagious disease. Their heads slumped down into their shoulders in embarrassment and disgust.

The high ceiling and the grand chandelier made the room overwhelming and very impressive to say the least. Surely, Ralf thought,that on those walls, the towering ceiling, and the grand chandelier cost numerous lives, dirty money and death. If you could pile up the bodies it took to scour the money to build such a mansion, it would fill the palace twice over at the least. Like many things, it seemed beautiful from the outside, but within held secrets that are too horrible to realize.

...

ON

"Dad... It's time to go home... You have to stop this, going out so late at night, mom gets worried." Ralf called as he shook his limp father.

"Nikolai... Where are you? Nikolai." Sergio, Ralf's father mumbled out.

Ralf was a college freshman, and the dreams of his father playing hero were over. Ralf knew the truth. Sergio wasn't some big shot secret agent, no James Bond, no one would make a movie or write stories about his adventures.

Sergio was a mercenary. Killing not for patriotism, glory or justice. It was all for money. Lives meant nothing to mercenaries anymore. Blood just meant points and points meant their paycheck. Whether they killed a drug dealer or a nun, it was all the same.

"Don't die you fuckers." Sergio continued to mumble. Ralf and his mother lived in constant agony and worry whenever Sergio never came home. To normal families it just meant that Dad was out on a night with the boys, but to Ralf the worry wasn't confined to getting lost or a bottle, it was the perverse overtime at work. Overtime that could mean a bullet in his brains or dying slowly in the gutter.

His hero, Ralf's perfect vision collapsed whenever he saw Sergio this way. HE had vowed never to become like his father. He couldn't bear the pain he would give his loved ones. There can be no room for emotion in a mercenary, but an individual devoid of emotion is impossible.

OFF

…

"I'm thirsty," came a wee voice next to Ching. It was Ching's son, Sai Weng. The 8 year old boy enjoyed mingling with the adults, and loved wearing his own coat and tie during these 'parties'.

Sai Weng lead the guests to their assigned seats from the door, and when Ralf came storming, cutting in line Ralf just patted Sai Weng on the head and made his way to the table.

Ralf sat on his seat and examined the setup in front of him. Fine silverware and porcelain plates. It was white, as white as the coat on his shoulders. Soon it would be sullied, and the world would come into motion. We can predict the future, but unfortunately we can't change its pre-destiny.

"Would you like some wine, sir?" a young lady asked Ralf. Ralf smiled and put his left palm open, high to stop her. "No, thank you…"

…

Ralf was a college freshman, and the dreams of his father playing hero were over. Ralf knew the truth.

…

"No, thank you. I don't drink alcohol, miss." Ralf answered.

The usual ten course, small portioned meal awaited the guests. Ralf looked to the left and the right. Around him were cool businessmen sipping away at their soup and munching slowly at the steaks that were bought with the blood of innocents. Ching trusted no one, and did not allow any of his customers to carry weapons nor have bodyguards. Even though the hypocrite businessmen around him were as helpless as babies, they remained cool and calm in their own world. This simple world devoid of fear, because that was the only life they were accustomed to. They thought it was that way for everyone. The world would change, the rules would change very soon. Because HE was right, and there was no salvation for him, and thus, no salvation for anyone else.

However, their smiles couldn't hide the greed and ambition in their eyes. Sai Weng was probably the only individual who was enjoying the dinner. Amongst the hypocrite mingling and plastic smiles, Sai Weng immersed himself in this grown up activity. Ralf wondered how he would react when he learned the truth when he grew up. Would he change as well like these other fools? And what of Ralf? Were his reasons of his being here pure, or were they selfish as well?

Ralf enjoyed the soup, it was mushroom. He didn't bother with a spoon, why would he? He just slurped it down from the bowl's rim straight. The maids sent each dish after each other and Ralf liked the rare steak most of all. He got his fork and rammed it into the hunk and bit off a chunk without even thinking.

"Mr. Ralf," Ching said in a sarcastic tone. "There are steak knives you know..." Sai Weng laughed innocently at Ralf who was making obnoxious faces at Ching when he wasn't looking.

The other guests merely refused to look at Ralf and proceeded to eat as if he didn't exist. When desert came, it was down to business. Ching snapped his fingers and one of his many maids brought in a briefcase with a small test tube inside.

SAISHYUU HEIKII

"Gentlemen," Ching announced. "We all know why we came here... It is for this!"

Ralf stopped eating and glared at the briefcase intently. This, Ching mentioned was the new 'weapon' that was so hyped. It wasn't a missile, or a bomb, it was a drug. It wasn't a harmful drug at all. In fact it was supposedly a cure. Long ago in the time of world war. There were numerous researches altering drugs which would enhance a soldier's fighting ability, but all the development came up with were mind controlling drugs, and viruses. The killers in development were so intent in making the ultimate weapon, silent and merciless, that they never bothered to find cures.

A savage drug. An ultimate weapon, granting a man godly power, and drove those inadequate into fits of madness then inevitable death. A man was never meant to have hands of God.

The cure was what Ching had in his hands.

However, there were no humanitarians in that room. Ralf knew the purpose of the cure. How typical of human greed. None of the bidders in that room wanted to share the cure, what they wanted was power. For if one nation had a cure for mind altering drugs, they would be free to use the drug on any enemy without fear of retaliation. It is such an irony on how man can easily pervert things meant for the good.

In the wrong person's hands this test tube could make dreams, wealth, or even petty ambitions like terrorism come true.

"So what's in it for you, mister mister?" The blonde waiter next to Ralf asked.

"It is for a friend..." Ralf muttered half heartedly.

…

Nikolai put his hand on Sergio's shaking shoulder to calm his friend. "Let it go, Sergio." He said. "Ralf's not you."

Sergio hunched silent in utter disappointment. He had no words to say, his heart broken and limp in his chest.

"You cannot expect your son, to atone for your sins. He will never be the man you, the man, we, always wanted to be, my friend."

"Match SET! Winner ANDRES!" The announcer roared on the loudspeaker. There was silence, then followed the uncertain and timid applause.

* * *

"So what's in it for you, mister mister?" The blonde waiter next to Ralf asked.

"I have a friend, and it's the only way he can die..." Ralf muttered half heartedly.

The world is so perfect from far away. There was once upon a time, a man. He wished – but his life never could be the way he wanted it [to].

I don't want my friends to be sad.

-10.16.04

**section.02: The Rules of Engagement**

"No.. this can't be happening," a teenage Ralf roared in his mind.. his gun was empty in his hands and all he could do was stare at that, his own trembling hand, as his enemy proceeded to increase the pressure on his vice grip on Ralf's cranium. The invading thumb already driving itself hungrily into his forehead, crushing bone and crushing his grey matter.

The visions in front of his began to turn blurry and the ghosts started to spiral out of focus. Was this the end? He hated the feeling. In the end he couldn't avenge the man he hated the most.

He looked upon his adversary, a couth looking middle aged man, with twisting, pulsating biceps of steel slowly squeezing the life out of him. Rugal twisted Ralf's head to the side, his thumb slowly making its way to his right eye.

NO, THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING… Somebody.. anybody – SAVE ME.

The final thing Ralf saw burned itself in his mind. It was a young boy, maybe 16 or 18, his age; rushing valiantly towards him. Blonde hair head in with a navy blue army cap, in combat gear. The young boy's hands were tense and open, fingers extended and running in slow motion towards him and his [enemy]. He had no expression in his face. But it was a sweet face he would remember until..

Darkness.

OFF

…

Ralf pulled his clean, white sleeve to the side, exposing his beloved Omega Speedmaster Professional Moon watch. Scratched and beaten from the cruelty of life, despite that it kept on moving. With a single purpose it drove itself for what it was created for.

…

If you [love] someone; do not you [HATE] them too?

STATIC, the steady calming hum that put me to sleep as a child. The chaotic murmur that matched the waves of my brain. In the chaos, the clockwork scratchy noise that molded my mind. Darkness with the warm glow.

I reached for the cheap mechanical knob on the black and white television. Slowly turning it clockwise to increase the volume. It was so painful yet so reassuring. It put my mind in s familiar constant chaos.

A red plastic box that told me sweet stories.

ON

"My father is the best there is." Ralf said to his grade school classmates. "He is a secret agent. Cool huh? He shoots bad guys and is a hero."

In war when you kill someone, you're a hero... But in the peaceful world, it doesn't work that way. Criminal or executioner, you're all murderers.

…

"BUT... Gentlemen," Ching continued, "We seem to have a snake in the grass in our midst. Isn't that right Mr. Lucifer?" Ching coaxed evilly as he pointed to Ralf.

With those words, an orchestra of steel bolts locking into play. Armed guards came storming into the dining room, ready to blow the white suited Ralf to kingdom come.

"Mr. Ralf, you must be a fool to think someone like me was unaware of the plots of a petty mercenary like yourself. Your employer doesn't want to bid? Then I will send back your body as a 'sorry' card. Such stupid faith you foreigners have. You come to my home, thinking me an ignorant slob, come in unarmed no less, and think you can take this prize away without a fight? Ho ho..."

Ralf stood up and threw his chair back. The furniture skipped behind him.

EVERYBODY IS [FREE]. FREE, to feel good.

Ralf, ever so ready to storm his way out he put his hands in a defensive stance, hovering in front of his face.

EVERYBODY'S [FREE].

Just like Ralf, thinking nothing of the pistols and machine guns that were pointed at him. "A natural killing ability." That was what Nikolai said to Sergio. "In the end, that was the only thing that made us stand out, what made us have purpose in the life. No one will ever understand us."

"He is not like you, my friend."

Cursing his mortality, as he had then, during THAT time, Ralf put his firsts in front of him. Those powerful fists, he knew was the only thing that can destroy this god.

…

TO LIVE, then TO DIE…

…

"To live and to die..." Ralf smiled as he tensed his forearms, waiting, waiting for something, anything to happen that would make the situation tip to his advantage.

"Tsk tsk," Ching said as he rocked his head. "You don't seem to understand. You are already dead. The soup was poisoned..."

"What the..." Ralf muttered. Ralf's arm started to jerk before it fell limp by his side. Fighting the feeling of numbness in his body, he tried to keep himself from wobbling and hoisted himself on the chair next to him. The five armed guards laughed to themselves and three of them even came close to Ralf to further make fun of him.

"The moment you came in those doors, the poisoned food was waiting for you..." Ching gloated.

"HHHUGHK!" Came a grunt from a man sitting next to Ralf and abruptly fell into his plate of cake.

"What the HELL?!" Ching gasped.

"Just kidding," Ralf smiled to the three armed men. Ralf lunged forward, his hand taught, and the chop went directly INTO his opponent's neck. The goon in front of him gasped and spat blood. Ralf kicked the goon's bloody body away from him and exposed the steak knife he never used. Two guards were at opposite sides of the room, still unaware of what was happening, and two were left near Ralf. One was behind him and the other to his side. Ralf dug into his jacket pocket and exposed a champagne glass which he had kept earlier. With that in his palm, he slapped the goon next to him, shattering the glass and embedding shards in his face.

The goon screamed in pain, but Ralf put an end to it with a steak knife to his throat. The one behind Ralf had a long machine gun. With that false confidence the goon released the safety and aimed. Ralf tensed his legs and leapt, not away, but just the opposite, he jumped towards his opponent. The odds were tipped against the goon now, since he had no available room to steer his barrel to shoot Ralf.

Ralf smiled.

He cocked his hand back slowly finally ending in a tense, cocking stop, and in a blur, his fist became a bullet and embedded itself deep into the goon's chest, breaking ribs like they were made of Styrofoam. Ralf's trained ears heard a click below him and he spun around to see the first goon he had stabbed still moving and aiming for his chest. Ralf grabbed a stunned businessman behind him as a human shield, and reached for some forks and knives from the table. With those in hand, he clipped a knife between his fingers and threw one across the table, jamming it in a customer's forehead. He threw his human shield towards the goon who was still shooting him and at the same time stabbed another clueless businessman repeatedly with a fork.

Ralf rolled and finished off the pinned gunman who shot at the human shield by sending two fingers in his eyes.

"Guard the door!" Ching yelled. "Don't let him escape."

One of the remaining two gunmen shot out random fire at Ralf but hit three stray victims as Ralf rolled across the table. Ralf grabbed a machine gun barrel from his roll, redirected it, and kept the attackers at bay with rabid gunshots. The guard by the door took careful aim and snickered as he caught Ralf in his crosshairs.

"Gwai loh, I got you."

A waiter next to him tapped him on the shoulder offering him a drink.

The gunman looked to the side but only saw an open palm racing towards his field of view, smashing his nose and sending it up into his brain.

"Clark!" Ralf called. "A waiter this time? You're just full of surprises!" Ralf stood up from his roll and continued running around, killing a dozen more victims with the wild automatic rifle he controlled, the goon still holding onto it defiantly.

"Didn't recognize you..." Ralf sneered. His virgin white suit now tainted with splashes of beautiful crimson . The true colors of a mercenary's soul.

COLOUR

"HEY!" Clark chuckled smugly as he straightened his shades and loosened his bowtie. "Hey, come on…" he called as he always did. Swung his fist to the side and rammed an expensive pair of shades into an enemy's eyes. "Come on baby!"

Five new gunmen came in from the main door. One got clipped by Clark's wide and savage haymaker as he showed his ugly face. The bullet hook punch came and went mercilessly making the goon's brains splatter across the floor.

The second gunman rolled and hit Clark by the leg, letting the remaining three through. The three rushed towards Ralf. Clark was pinned down by the door. Ching was still breathing and his son Sai Weng was clutching on to his father's leg. The customers were dropping like flies and now only five of them were left. Ralf pointed his gun but cursed himself when he heard the empty clicks.

There was a spark and the chandelier came falling down thanks to Clark's precise bullet. The fixture got rid of the five remaining businessmen and one of the three attacking Ralf. The lights were out for a moment so this was their chance. Clark leapt up despite the pain in his leg and grabbed the blinded goon by the waist. With a roar he wrapped his arms around and twisted the goon around, smashing the goon's back on his leg. A perfect backbreaker Clark thought as he heard the sweet melodic crack of bones.

DEFEAT - GAIN.

Before the lights went out, Ralf etched the positions of the two remaining goons in front of him in his mind. He went for the closest one. Ralf rushed, with his left punch leading the way, he broke ribs, in one motion he spun around and delivered a backhand to the goon's cheek, deforming a mass of it. Before the goon could even fall over to the side, Ralf completed the move with an upper and shattered his jaw. The last gunman's eyes focused on Ralf, and random fire bit into Ralf's side. Ralf grimaced in pain and instinctively rolled under the table.

The painful rush that engulfed his senses was not unfamiliar to him, it was a reminder that he was still alive. But, if he was still alive, he could fight again…

SUDDEN PURPOSED ROAR. With his back to the ground, he kicked upwards and tipped the table over, giving him a barrier for the last rounds of bullets.

…

Ching held his position at the back of the room, and he let his men do his dirty work. It was not looking good for him. Two men so easily storming his palace. He was GOD here there was no way he would let an outsider take him.

"DAMN IT!" Ching roared behind him. As an answer a 7 foot golem approached him from behind.

…

"RALF!" Clark shouted from across to the room towards his comrade who took refuge behind his makeshift redwood barrier. "Move, NOW!"

Ralf's eyes darted open, a sudden frantic emotion rushed through his body.

It was never often he heard that blonde man speak in such a sudden panicked tone.

Without question, he couldn't help but reply to the sudden shock of by planting both feet to the ground. The sudden surge of pain ran up his thigh and up his midsection from his injuries. The sudden urgency rushed through him, and Ralf propelled his body. The wounds in his legs exploded in spurts of crimson but he pushed it to the limit anyways. Ralf heaved himself to the left, away from his fortress.

As if on queue, the redwood barrier exploded into pieces as one of Ching's goons dove into his space as if propelled like a missile.

The dust settled, leaving a devoured Chinese man impaled into what was left of the table. Ralf couldn't comprehend what had happened, until he looked towards Ching. In front of him was a burly, slit eyed behemoth of a man with a blank expression on his wide face.

The remaining goons that surrounded the pair of heroes mumbled in fear and slowly put their muzzles down, quite unsure of what to make of the situation, but all of them slowly backed away from the ogre, and their master, Ching, for fear that they too would suffer the same disposable fate of their brother.

A shrill cackle of laughter enveloped the room as the once shivering Ching emerged from his cubby, next to this new protector. Ching mumbled a rash of terse phrases in Cantonese and pointed at Ralf. "You're DEAD GWAI LOH! YOU'RE DEAD!" Ching proclaimed index finger extended in triumph.

The monster broke into action, a low growl escaped his lips as he rushed fearlessly directly into Ralf. Saving no room for finesse, his long, thick arms flew behind him like streamers… The slits of his eyes opened just a moment, exposing his bloodshot pinhole eyes, then his left paw swung forward, throwing his undersized suit tail fly up. It was enough leverage to swing his right fist up and send it hammering down at Ralf.

Clark stood open mouthed for only an instant, words could not escape his mouth, but he did as he always had… he ran.. He ran as fast as he could towards Ralf, and let destiny decide what would happen next.

It wasn't enough time, and he had only taken a few steps before he was forced to shield his face from the sudden maximum impact of that grotesque downward right hammer.

…

"You're dead, mercenary!" Ching cackled, fists trembling with glee. The shattered furniture propelling itself in all directions. The suited goons around them covered their faces and instinctively backed away as far as they could from the brutal melee.

…

The golem hunched back to a stand, slowly lifting his bloody fists from the debris. His eyes once again in a blank slit. It slowly scanned the area as the dust settled.

"TOO SLOW, ya FUCKIN CHINK!"

Clark couldn't help but ease his shoulders when he heard Ralf taunt as peppy as he knew. Ralf drifted in midair, dodging the blow just in time. In his hands was his pistol ready to go to work.

"DIE! Mutant!" Ralf proclaimed as he launched the first bullet into the monster's center of mass. Ralf broke off from his slow motion flight and rolled once just to the side of his enemy and let loose 5 more shots into the chest. The pistol still in battery, with one shot left in the chamber, he pressed the mag release. The empty magazine dropped down to Earth, but another was more than ready to take his place.

With no pause to the beat and tempo Ralf proceeded to unload the remaining 8 shots into the golem, ending with a torrid clack of steel as his pistol's slide locked back, signifying an empty weapon.

Ralf stood from his kneeling position and only grinned as the giant roared in pain, slinging its head back before toppling to the ground from the shock.

Ralf leaned on his one good leg and examined his handy work. A monster toppled beneath his feet. He took a moment to catch his breath and laugh a bit. He let his laugh radiate throughout the room, proclaiming his greatness as the goons around him refused to make any move.

Ralf gripped his unbalanced, empty pistol in his right hand and leaned forward over the dead beast. Lips puckered in a sneer mock, he laughed.

"STAY!" Ralf blurted condescendingly at the unmoving husk. Pistol's muzzle pointed down at the floor, THUMBS DOWN, Ralf loosened his grip on the handle and extended his middle finger downwards with the same gripping hand. Ralf looked to the side and put his palm to his forehead in a slow, silent, mocking laughter. He then threw his left hand to the side as if he was slapping the grime from his pretty hands.

Ralf walked calmly towards Ching.

…

Clark's relaxed demeanour suddenly broke. Ralf noticed it and stopped in his tracks. There was a low growl, and once again Clark, visibly agitated, hunched over ready to leap at any given moment.

Ralf slowly turned towards the dead body behind him. Shock replaced confidence as the low growl got louder, and the golem slowly hunched to the stand, its heavy arms heaving its body up.

GOD DAMN…, Ralf's silent and perplexed mouth formed. In a moment, his enemy, once again blank faced lumbered to a complete stand, enveloping Ralf in shadows as its towering form blocked the light.

GOD DAMN. Ralf's mouth stammered. His bullets had failed him at such a close range, and his brain just couldn't process the information quick enough – it couldn't tell him that a megaton fist was propelling itself towards his head.

"URAGH!" came a groan from the darkness in front of Ralf. A sudden impact once again that made the air within the palace shift. Ralf instinctively put both forearms up to protect his face. A sudden thunder enveloped his being, with teeth grit, and diaphragm tense, he was ready to take the blow.

Ralf opened his eyes, and in front of him was Clark, arms crossed fearlessly he had put himself in front to shield his partner.

{CLARK… You…}

Clark was propelled to the side by the blow, tumbling to take the blow as he had been trained. Broken pieces of debris painfully softening his hard fall.

"DAMN IT!" Ralf roared defiantly, and on instinct, his left hand went for his waistband to replenish his pistol. To his shock, he only felt cloth – he was out of magazines.

The ogre slowly eased itself from its swing and lumbered once again to a stand, unmoving, just watching Ralf and his next move. It coughed once then twice in agony, then put its clawed hand onto its midsection and side. The orchestra of failed, deformed lead fell with a pitter pat onto the marble floor.

There were slow gasps, then it calmed itself once all the bullets once inside its body dropped harmlessly onto the ground. It looked up, mocking Ralf with its indifferent stare.

Ralf tensed the grip on his right hand. His arm trembled from frustration, and finally he threw his pistol to the ground.

"FUCK!" Ralf cussed defiantly, followed by the orchestra of callous murmurs and Ching laughter around him.

Ralf's vision looked to the side at Clark's unmoving body.

Ralf put his arms and clawed to his side in anger. His hungry trembling hands lost in an emotion of anger, confusion and fear. He tensed his teeth, and the fangs bit into his lip.

Ralf hunched his head down and clawed his forehead in his left hand. Clawing into his bandanna wrapped forehead… "Damn it."

…

Ralf hunched his head down and clawed his forehead in his left hand. Clawing into his bandanna wrapped forehead. The tension wanted to rip itself into his mind. His brain just couldn't understand what was happening.

How could he fail? How could flesh be stronger than steel?

Then he remembered. He remembered it intently… That moment when he realized what he had to do – what he had to do to take it to the limit.

Ralf left palm covering his eyes, he let out a spastic grunt, then two. A slow song of giggles. His shoulders were relaxed again. Ralf pushed his forehead up with his fingertips and breathed in a slow calm gasp. Then he let it out slowly and easily.

His thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of his nose. Ralf's fanged teeth grinned coyly. He looked up with a bright smile, his eyes moist but without tears. Left palm extended in invitation.

"Ha ha…" Ralf let out slowly with a beautiful open mouth smile. "You're SO going to die." Ralf giggled.

YOU ARE NOT [GOD] – that, I know.

Ralf loosened his collar and threw his white suit to the side. Paying no attention to the myriad of automatic weapons pointed at him, he slowly walked towards the behemoth in slow, wide, almost comedic steps.

When he was two feet from the towering giant that enveloped him in a dark eclipse, he hunched his head forward mockingly and opened his left palm skyward next to him, fingers open wide.

"You look like Bolo Yeung, buddy. I guess… that makes me Mr. Lee." : D Ralf slant eyed coo mocked.

There was no action from his enemy.

"One hit… one hit…" Ralf said slooowly, his left and right index fingers tottling up and down side by side. "I don't have TIME to play ... with you, Bolo…"

Smile.

"You hit me once, then, I hit you once. Then you hit me, then I hit you… Understand?" he cooed. "First one to DIE, loses."

"You hurt my friend; You're goin'ta die, Chinaman."

* * *

There's no need to explain; when we experience the most perfect moment.

…we have made a sacrifice, or maybe it was delusion, what we give up because we think it was [right] – because it was better than living an aimless existence, or maybe, it's true.

It is the way we delude ourselves in this existence. [We], as people find ZEN in everyday. Some find peace in cooking, some in creating art. There are others who make due with devotion to religion. Then there are those who simply want to live to see tomorrow. There is poetry and epiphany in all that – then there are those who give meaning to their lives by taking risks. With making bullets they fire, and cleaning their own weapons.

To surpass themselves and humanity in its most carnal way.

[HERE]; There is neither reason to reach for philosophy – nor the strive for scholarly enlightenment. When the world ends for them, whether they leap across a canyon or throw their last punch. Logic does not exist [here].

Gambling his heart and pride with his hands…

…maybe it's true - that he had found the [answer]?

…and in this way, we live extraordinary lives, amidst extraordinary [days].

-12.16.04

**section.03: The [White] Devil**

These rules are simple. When your heart shatters, you will be strong.

You must be responsible for your maturity. You must be responsible for every heart you break – and in the very end, for every life you take.

…

There was no action from his enemy.

"One hit… one hit…" Ralf said slooowly, his left and right index fingers tottling up and down side by side. "I don't have TIME to play ... with you, Bolo…"

Smile.

"You hit me once," Ralf's left index finger crept up, "…then, I hit you once. Then you hit me, then I hit you… Understand?" he cooed. "First one to DIE, loses." With a wide toothed grin.

Ralf breathed in calmly and placed his open left palm over his stomach. He let it stay there and breathed in, slowly. He closed his eyes faithfully, fearlessly – and numbed his mind until blank thoughts clouded his mind. There was nothing.

Breathe in.

Hold.

Breathe out.

Open your own eyes.

Ralf did. He opened his eyes and steadily walked his vision from the monster's ankles slowly to his opponent's face to meet an equally blank, slit eyed gaze.

Breathe out…

Ralf put both hands in his pockets and leaned back. He tensed his spine straight and true, interlocking each of his vertebrae, before… Before he relaxed each one and unlocked each link, one by one, each link easing and dislodging itself from reassurance and fear, putting himself in a sure, but relaxed hunch.

He didn't break eye contact, then he spoke again.

"ONE PUNCH. Give me all you got."

"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!" Ching roared from across the bloody room. "It's a trick! The round eye is no match for you! KILL HIM!"

The rambling and curses went on from all around, but there was no action.

Without warning the golem launched his fist downward to the side of Ralf's cheek. Wind disemboweling space, ready to cut the world into two… Judgment came down to Ralf. Ralf said nothing.

"DIE!" Ching screamed.

The giant didn't make a sound. The fist continued in its deadly path towards Ralf's temple ready and willing to split his opponent's skull open.

{Pei ngo tai ha…}

Ralf's mouth moved ever so silently, there was no sound again, and the end came mercilessly. Ralf's lips mouthed different words, but there was only one sentence [they] could hear.

{[Pei ngo tai haa…]}

Ching's mouth gawked open and this, the inevitable destruction. However, instead, [his] giant fist stopped merely an inch from Ralf's temple. The weapon of destruction floated there for a while, and to everyone's surprise, Ralf's hands were still calmly in his pockets, he was only eager to take the blow with no defense.

{Let me…}

AND WHAT FAITH. From his hunched meditation Ralf opened his relaxed gaze and looked up to this opponent. The arrogance had left his visage and he only looked at the giant with newfound respect. He didn't want to smile.

He didn't smile anyways, but he didn't break his blank look. His hands stayed their place, unmoving and trusting. A 20 pound fist hovered still next to his brain.

MAYBE IT'S TRUE.

You may be a [monster], but maybe… maybe [men] like you still exist in this world… Ralf sighed with no sound. Amidst all these dolls;

I AM SO HAPPY, so very happy TO FIGHT YOU

The fist hovered back to the monster's side, unmoving, the cackling laughter and arrogant curses slowly hummed to silence. In the end it was just the goliath and Ralf. In a world all to their own.

No warning. The fist cocked back yet again with unbelievable speed, and with a thundering blow sent the ball of retribution into the [White] devil's midsection. Each tendon and sinew crackling in shock, there was only ONE answer that Ralf received. This was 20 pounds into his diaphragm.

"HOU YEAH AH! (Oh YEAH!)" came a scream from the crowd. Minimum comprehension. He golem's roaring brethren called out with tense fists flailing in the air and his destructive fist connected. Cheer, screams and insults of pride soared. Fists in the air. Yes. Show him who's more powerful!

Yet [he] would hear nothing of it – the fist continued in its path each tendon tensed to the limit. SHOW YOU.

Ralf hunched over, willing, but unable to comprehend the instantaneous thunder that ripped through his entire being. It was almost as if a sledgehammer was flung mercilessly into his chest.

Ralf's pupils shrunk, and in an instant he was

DRIVEN

backwards. Every muscle in his body defiantly tried to keep his stature upright, and despite the fact that his feet were planted to the ground, and yet, he was skidding backwards.

No… NO! Ralf's calves and heart screamed in defiance. All that unadulterated passion touching every bit of his flesh – it wanted to disengage every molecule in his body by sheer rage of shock alone. Ralf skidded back, tearing into the ground, trying at his utmost to stay conscious.

What will happen next?

What will happen next?

Will tomorrow be grand?

What will I feel when the end is near?

It didn't seem to matter. The pain and fear in his stomach left him.

Ralf skidded and very inch he took, the less he cared of the future.

In the end, it was meaningless, Ralf's right toes tensed and pointed to heaven; in a moment his right foot was floating above the ground, and it had given up its hold onto the earth. Ralf's toes, then feet, and his knees were flying backwards in the air, one with pure white doves soaring upwards. Ralf was in the air, and bit-by-bit his consciousness was fading him.

"I can't…" Ralf uttered, "What's happening."

It's so clear, the crimson gaze that enveloped Ralf's vision slowly turned to white… "It hurts so much…" He mumbled, but never daring to speak those words out loud. With that one thought, his left foot began to rise and now, Ralf's entire body fell into a peaceful white.

Narcoleptic sensation. "You've lost so soon, son?"

…

"You've lost so soon, son?" - "Sai Louh, shyuu zoh gah?" Those damn Chink words ripped into his mind. Even if I turn over the Chinese flag, it would be meaningless if we lost.

[Raison D'etre], [my purpose of being]

…and in this way, I will justify my existence.

I will always love you. Even when clouded by rage, I will always love you. Because, isn't it true, that they go hand in hand?

…

"He's got natural skill." Nikolai said, arms crossed beside his comrade. "Your son's amazing – better than you, Sergio."

"No.. this can't be happening," a teenage Ralf roared in his mind.. his gun was empty in his hands and all he could do was stare at his trembling hand, as his enemy proceeded to increase the pressure on his vice grip on Ralf's cranium. The invading thumb already driving itself hungrily into his forehead, crushing bone and crushing his grey matter.

"Pa..PAPA! help me.."

AS A MOCKERY TO MAN, God gave Adam life, a life only to be filled with suffering. A father wishing greatness to the sons he selfishly created in his image, to carry his dreams, and suffer in his stead.

The slim statured commander put his left hand on his beret, and with his right pointed forward. Without another word the blond haired teeneager ran forward – maybe because he had nothing to lose…"Save him. Risk your life for your brother." - and then you will know the true power of the [innocent boy].

…

Ralf's eyes relaxed shut, oh so sweet, the pain left his body and he was more than welcoming the peace…

…

"You cannot expect your son, to atone for your sins. He will never be the man you, the man, we, always wanted to be, my friend."

…

No…

…

NO! DEFY YOU!

Ralf's eyes darted open – as if a call to Jesus and [God] above, Ralf's entire body tensed. First to from his strong [heart], then to his stomach, his thighs, then to his feet. His feet that he drove to the ground, skidding and tearing into the hard unforgiving floor beneath him. Ralf didn't not never let his hold onto the earth free so soon.

Ralf waved his arms up to counter the energy thrust upon him by the Chinese behemoth, heavenly peace and serenity was replaced by mortal pain and agony – Ralf twisted his upper body in a circular motion tying defiantly to create a counter centrifugal motion to stop his flight.

Through his boots, his right toes clawed into the ground, he [believed] he could. - and from your own meager heart, if you can believe, then it [WILL] be so.

Ralf swung his left leg around and thrust it behind his body as a ballast to stop himself from collapsing. He stopped abruptly and Ralf felt his left leg lock then tense – his knees locking painfully, sending a lighting bolt through his being - giving in from the impact and weakening.

His left leg buckled from the damage but Ralf had come to a full stop. The dust and debris enveloped his body. His shoulders and hips trembling from the shock. Ralf's heart beat ever so much faster to drive all the blood throughout his body to jolt him awake from his unconsciousness.

The world is stopped.

Ralf's arms at his side, and his legs were shoulder length apart. He was standing straight and upright, he had defied the will of nature. Newton had no place here; here – where burning hearts were still [true].

…

Calm slow breathing – it was good while it lasted. He thought. The white slowly leveled to grey hues and again black and white. The colour came to his eyes.

The white devil threw his right hand to his knees to steady himself, maybe with enough time, he breathed deep and devoured each breath of air he could – maybe he could maintain it.

His pupils dilated from violent to slow. The world came into focus. One more time he looked up and Ralf gazed upon his welcoming, amazing opponent.

BREATHE IN

BREATHE OUT

"Damn." Ralf grunted. "Damn that was good."

Ralf slung his left hand over his right shoulder and even if it was not possibly so he made himself believe he could heave himself up to a stance as not to dishonour his enemy. "Heh" He grinned. "Damn."

Ralf arced his chin up and grinned. "Damn…"

That was good.

[I could've almost seen heaven.]

…

The men around him abruptly ceased in their cheers. With wide open mouths they merely gawked as Ralf stumbled to a sure stand. Their hollers eased and wild fists calmed.

As an answer Ralf's left hand tensed into a fist and trembled by his hips. The future is waiting for me. I can't give up now. It's you or me. The left armed clawed brace thundered upwards and across his body. Ralf's right knee trembled at the uncertainty – he threw his weight backwards until the limit to where he would topple over and they sung to his defiance.

My turn.

The anchor released free and Ralf swung his left foot forward, ripping right into the bloody ground; he called it his own.

Oh how the ladies and the angels sang. At that last moment, the fist hovered above his head, perfectly balancing Ralf in a one-foot stance. Before he would topple backwards, he knew what to do.

GALACTIC

Intergalactic – planetary…

Before throwing his left shoulder forward, Ralf curled his entire upper body in a tight corkscrew and was ready to release it in a moment. Before he would fall over from tension Ralf unleashed his coils around and let it all out.

Right hand sailing over his head fearlessly; this was his answer – this was his answer to the beautiful wide world that would put him down. The sonic boom echoed throughout the complex and in a moment he was gone from sight.

Where Ralf once stood there was nothing, only emptiness mourned his wake – there was no one there, a soft swirl of smoke and ebbing fire floated where Ralf once was. And in the next instant Ralf appeared 3 feet from his opponent. His entire body curled in a lifelong thesis.

GALACTIC PHANTOM

To you.

All the muscles in the man's body willed itself loose then tense in an instant. Propelling every bit of mass towards the golem. Galactic Phantom, a four knuckled answer roared home into the monster's soft midsection.

Flesh met flesh, a thundering sound. Into his enemy's diaphragm Ralf let every bit of himself do the talking. Four wild beasts roared mercilessly and ravaged his insides. Galactic Phantom, an unblockable attack ripped into the monster.

The golem couldn't fight the instinct, his open left palm flew upwards in shock, instinctively covering his face. It was too late Ralf's right fist had embedded itself as deep as it would go into his opponent.

Both of the ogre's hands were up in a mock surrender. Ralf was balancing on his sole foot, ready to topple over, relying on the mass in front of him to keep himself upright.

Ralf didn't dare face his enemy. His eyes were taught.

The monster still stared forward not fully comprehending the last 5 seconds of action.

Ralf looked.

The monster gazed to the distance.

Ralf.

Monster.

The rock hard stomach drifted an inch from the knuckles, and the rules of engagement continued… Then was broken. As quick as it came then it had departed, the space between Ralf's knuckles and the belly of the beast erupted into an explosive flame. The flame became a long trail marking the path of the beast. The world shook then stopped, Ralf's enemy's vision went dark in an instant.

The monster skidded 4 feet backwards, back arched as far as it would go before toppling. One moment [he] was standing then in the next his mouth tried to curl open to breathe in air to fight the pain, but when he did so his lungs refused to extract oxygen from the air – then he knew it was over. The pressure clamped on his temples like a vise grip, then all rational thought was gone.

Those legs, as large as tree trunks started to wobble and the fortress fell without a second thought. One last, yet failed gasp for air cut the silence and the fortress fell with a thundering call.

…

Ralf's right hand hovered center where it had last connected with the beast, he coughed lightly before retracting it slowly towards his belly to keep from his own insides from exploding from the stress. Ralf hunched and made his way to his toppled opponent. He looked downwards at the lifeless hulk that decorated the marble floor beneath him, and he sighed. His own lungs finally accepted the air he breathed into his body – his heart beat at a steady pace.

The mercenary's left hand replaced his right on his diaphragm to steady his breathing as he looked upon the sight. Ralf couldn't help but grin a wide toothed smile, and he shelved his right hand on his forehead. He let it there for a moment, then twirled it palm outward in an arc, skyward. A snobbish salute that mimicked a goodbye, he swatted the heavy emotion that was brooding above his head with the backhand of his coy salute.

"You lose, 'China'." He probably grunted before he let off a heavy breath when he knew his lungs were functioning again.

Both palms were again at Ralf's hunched knees as he forced himself upright. As he rose from pain, his arrogant smile made the rest of the goons tense.

Clark pulled himself likewise from the debris and chuckled. With his newfound energy he shook his right hand – thumbs up. "Yeah." Clark wheezed.

Ralf turned sidewards in reply to his friend, then loomed back at Ching as he completed his rise up. The speechless Chinaman, Ching bit his lip but said nothing. Ralf's smile declared his victory, and to further emphasize, Ralf launched his right middle finger forward to him.

Ralf took two breaths then stopped. It needed no translation, guns and power couldn't defeat Ralf and his arrogance. Maybe he was right, then? It needed no translation, Ralf arced his spine back and threw his middle finger hellbound in a makeshift 'thumbs down'.

"DTIU LEI!" Ralf cussed with his white tongue.

FUCK – YOU

…

When the odds are against you – cut down your enemy and bring him down to your pace. It is a risky, yet, not certainly a cowardly course of action indeed.

Ralf's mourh shaped the words but the monster didn't hear any thing – what he heard was "Pei ngo tai haa…"

"SHOW ME. SHOW ME YOUR POWER."

Ralf spoke again Hou Lang Hai Zhen…

{Maybe, Maybe it's true…}

…

Ralf arced his spine back and threw his middle finger hellbound in a makeshift 'thumbs down'.

"DTIU!" Ralf cussed with his brittle white tongue.

* * *

It is so much easier to reminisce about the past. How cowardly we are – because the past is perfect. It is perfect because there is nothing we can do to change it. Clinging to it we stop in our tracks - and we cry in the cold snow.

But we have to move forward; otherwise you and I would be better off DEAD, as we dream about yesterday. Forget about the past, today I will continue to do this…

If you are UNABLE to fight for your happiness; then 13 angels will cry with you in sorrow – BUT, if you are UNWILLING to fight for happiness, then you have NO RIGHT to even shed a single [tear]…

-01.08.05 Happy Birthday, Elvis-sama.

**section.04: Final Chain**

First developed in 1962, it was recorded that the [drug]'s goal was to create, as we all read about in novels and movies, a super soldier; but in truth - and in this case, and more realistically, it was a project funded to induce the rapid degeneration of the common soldier.

Science was repeatedly tortured in history - pushed to develop a cure for war induced [PSHYCO-SHOCK], but instead it was perverted into a weapon of war. Two years after it's development in 1962, they found that this [project], accomplished its planned 'accidental' goal, and had dual effects.

The rapid degeneration of human soldiers to zombie-like fashion. However, the second, was that, this degeneration caused a carnal, superhuman augmentation within their victims' mental states. Thus mimicking the phenomena recorded in those [texts] from 1582-1583 in Japan's unification.

**The [Berserker Phenomena]. **

In 1990-1991 Gulf War, there was only [one] survivor. This is what sparked the funding of the project X911FTA. -Experiment 911 – Farewell to Arms.

…

The Chinese man scratched the bridge of his nose as he always did, and made sure the tip of his pencil didn't hit his expensive glasses before he muttered a textbook reply. "You see, son, all our pains can be traced back to our parents. Unless you have two fathers and two mothers you can never have a justifiable point of comparison… A – second opinion – if you will."

Dr. Richard Chan coughed.

"Without this comparison you can never really rightfully judge whether your parents did a good job or not; and as always you are trapped following their lead in your life, because this is the only example you had." He continued.

Ahem…

"Once you come to grips with this, you can gauge better if your parents are good examples or not; and if so then you can change, and move on,"

I'll see you again next week, therapy needs some time to sink in.

[I don't believe in therapy.]

…

There was no reply. His enemy didn't stand and Ralf was left alone once again. The chorus finally silenced around him as he stood above what was once his. Truly he had fought for his life but now it was simply a memory. Oh how Ralf wanted to feel that emotion again.

…

"ALL RIGHT! He DID it Sergio! He did it!"

"Yes," Sergio smiled proudly, his tense fist to his side in triumph.

…

"Did you see that? Did you see that Sergio?" Ralf muttered, setting his eyes downcast on the giant crumpled beneath his feet. Ralf's stomach expanded then contracted trying its best to fight the obvious shock in his midsection. Every muscle in his diaphragm convincing itself that the terror had ended.

Ralf's middle finger eased itself and his arms limped loosely by his side. Are you dreaming of distant memories, then you fall to a calm state of mind. It will guide to you another place. Now that it's gone, he just wanted someone to cheer for him, to reinforce his victory, to forget all those years he had taken it for granted.

As an answer the gunshot rang and Ralf felt part of his left shoulder explode in a red festival. He turned around to see Ching 10 yards behind him, the barrel of his pistol still smoking.

Ralf's mind exploded and muscle memory took over as his right hand ran up to his left shoulder, instinctively applying pressure and assessing the damage.

SHIT.

Clark rose up from his makeshift table shield and tried to see amongst the chaos. His earlier praise transformed into fright – his friend was hit. Every fiber of his being wanted to leap up, but his instincts kept him steady and stood his ground. He hoped he would not regret later.

Ralf's thoughts darted back to reality, and he threw his body behind the largest piece of furniture he could find. In his wake 3 more shots followed him. He grit his teeth and made his stomach tense to gauge if he had been hit in the barrage. Luckily for him they had all missed.

…

"GWAI LOH!" Ching screamed exposing his arrogant stature out in the open. "Come out! COME OUT!"

Ralf grit his teeth. The damage wasn't that severe, he could still make it. Ralf bit his lip – it was only GUNS. It was only lifeless tools, surely he was stronger. NO MORE GUNS. He willed himself steady even as his heart pulsed ever so fast and as he tried to not let his bladder go free from the shock.

"ARE YOU SCARED OF ME?! GWAI LOH!"

…

The words were clear to his ears, and suddenly all his worries started to fade away. "ARE YOU SCARED OF ME, SON!?" Then fear was only replaced. Why was he here…?

Ching held his breath and grinned as the white devil rose arrogantly from his hiding place, hunching half his bodyweight over the overturned table in front of him. Ralf's gaze was tense and ripped into the Chinaman. Ching's only reply was his right hand, his pistol perched towards Ralf.

"You are die." Ching said. "You cant have 'farewell to arms'.

"I don't want [it], It wasn't MY fault. YOU killed him."

Ching held his trigger finger and stared at the defenseless man in front of him.

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT! You killed Sergio. You killed him. I will –revenge- him." Ralf uttered. Ralf lifted his left arm slowly and painfully to his brow and grabbed a hold of his bandana. He ripped it from its hold and shelved it in his fists for all to see. You killed SERGIO!"

Ching eased his shoulders and grinned. "Who's Sergio?" He smiled. "You can't expect me to remember every white fuck I've killed do you?" With his chuckle Ching's henchmen slowly but surely erupted into their own fit of laughter.

Ralf didn't slow his pace and gripped into his palm, and surely he could feel his palms bleed. "LOOK AT ME, YOU FUCKIN CHINK!"

"Are you so sad?" Ching grunted. "Sad, that you weren't able to say goodbye to him. This; This Sergio? You're a no one! You will die too!"

The answer seemed to have been ready for 3 years. He didn't hear anything, "He will come for you! If you kill me, then he will COME for you…"

Ching burned Ralf's image in his mind and fired two shots. In the next instant he leapt for the wall and mashed his palm over the switch. It shut off the lights and made the room erupt into gunfire.

The answer seemed to have been ready for 3 years. He didn't hear anything, "He will come for you! If you kill me, then he will come for you…"

…

"If you shoot me, Ching, my son will come for you."

"Hah! A mercenary like you, who would feel sad for a man like you?"

"Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day – [he] will come for you…Ching." He grabbed ahold of his red camo bandana with his left hand, and said…

"So sad, white devil. Your boy never will have the chance to say 'I love you' to someone as WORTHLESS as you."

Christmas day. White show fell from the sky. It was just another day.

…

"HE WILL COME FOR YOU!" Ralf roared. "REMEMBER HIM!"

…

You don't understand it yet do you, Ralf? When a father lives only for his son, risks his life and throws away his future. When rejected, you can hopefully one day feel that.

I am so sorry you hate your father.

…

Ching gripped his pistol and went cautiously to the light switch. He flicked it on and immediately scanned the room. He saw the white coat and started firing until the slide of his pistol locked back, until there were no bullets left. He hit his target squarely on the back and it fell over.

"Got you!" Ching laughed as he walked towards the white suited body. Ching kicked the body over. To his horror, it wasn't Ralf at all whom he'd shot. It was the last gunman.

In an instant, Ching's right hand went ever so heavy, pressure to the back of his upper elbow then a man's entire weight onto his wrist. The tenseness in his fingers were apparent, as Ching felt his pistol's barrel dive downwards then twist free from his grasp.

Ralf was upon him, totally fearless, Ralf put his right palm over his enemy's steel slide, pushing it back with his thumb and index an inch out of battery – and rendering it useless, as he had done a hundred times before. Left hand under Ching's elbow to resist any action, Ralf pried the man's hand 90 degrees the wrong way in an incomprehensible position then snapped the pistol from Ching's hold and put his left palm over Ching's ear after smashing his elbow over the other.

Solid boots swung hard behind Ching's ankles, braking his hold onto the world. "Figure.3 Defang snake" Ralf said grimly above Ching as the man toppled defenseless on his bottom.

Ching's muscle memory kicked in finally and he launched his right palm forwards only to see nothing.

"Wait..." Ching's bravado broke, his right palm wide open in horror as soon as he knew what was happening. "Let's make a deal... Come on, I have the money, I will pay you double.. NO, TRIPLE of what your employer did okay? You're a mercenary right? You work for money right? Come on..." Ching rambled.

"Give me back Sergio." Ralf said in a grim tone.

"Yes.. yes.. he..." Ching stuttered.

"He was my father. You killed him. [THAT GOD] killed him."

"You've got to be joking... come on, it was in self defense - he was hired to kill me – I - me has lots of enemies you know. It wasn't personal. You got to believe me." The erratic murmurs erupted from the Chink's lips.

"I know that." Ralf growled. "I hated him. I hated his job. The blood he had on his hands..." {But he is still my father}, Ralf thought {Ironic again, that this is the only way for me to avenge him… to become as evil and worldly as he had become.} "It is an endless chain, Ching. Revenge."

…

"It will be – an [endless] chain, Ching."

…

Christmas Day. I wanted to say 'sorry to my father. BUT I hated them all.

What happened to my happy ending?

If [I] cant be happy then no one will…

…

A STATIC BUZZ…

Hey buddy, let's get it backers. That what was stolen from us.

"He is not like you, Sergio. He cannot atone for our sins."

OFF

…

"No, don't hurt my father!" came a voice from below. Sai Weng was beating on Ralf's legs. "Why do you want to kill my dad. You're a bad man."

"Yes, you are evil!" Ching mocked. "I do not kill people, I am only a businessman, I sell things. I only kill those who want to kill me. Why do you need an empty slogan to justify your action. It was your father who you should blame."

**BLAME**

Give me someone , anyone to blame. Let the chaotic static stop.

...

ON

Memories flooding my mind. The rules will never change…

"My eyes, my eyes!" Yuri called out. Out of control, and afraid Yuri waved his machine gun and started shooting random fire in all directions.

"Shit!" Alex called out in frustration and anger. "He's in shock."

"Teme... (bastard)" Clark called out. "He shouldn't have gone up to point if he wasn't up to it. You're an idiot Alex."

"Shut up! I am in charge here" Alex yelled while rolling to dodge Yuri's barrage of random fire.

"Fuck..." Ralf said, "At this rate, we'll be killed... Yuri! There's no one shooting you, there're no enemies!" Ralf tried to reason to Yuri.

It fell on deaf ears as Yuri hysterically continued to shoot. The automatic bullpup singing a sweet melody.

"Fuck! FUCK THIS!" Ralf cursed again louder as he drew his 1911 pistol from the holster. "Yuri! YURI! FUCK THIS!"

There was a loud clap of thunder as Ralf's wrists shivered a bit, not from the recoil, but from his indecisiveness. The bullet ripped through Yuri's thigh and sent him sprawling down on the ground. Ralf prayed that that hit would end it, but quite the contrary, Yuri drew out his Uzi from his belt and started to fire more, faster, more unpredictable, dangerously.

We'll all die. Looks like Yuri's luck just ran out. Clark stood up, drew his venerable Browning Hi-Power and aimed carefully for Yuri's head. If you're gonna do something, don't do it half assed!

Clark fired a round, but he missed the rabid wolf that scampered and rolled around. There was more fire from Yuri, and one slug embedded itself into Clark's shoulder. Clark let out a grimacing yell and fell to the bushes.

"Clark!" Ralf screamed. In that moment, all reason stopped.

…as it always had, the cold steel - and instinct kicked in. Ralf's hand swung like how your foot would jerk when hit by those small rubber mallets. Two shots fired out, the one last. A precise hit, a sure kill.

Yuri, like a deer, jerked and fell over limp.

{This is a game. Clark's words echoed in Ralf's mind. It's like a FUCKING VIDEO GAME. Shoot and to kill, and death means only more and more points. Points mean money, and money means we survive to kill again another day. If you let it get to you, you won't last long in this game. There can be no affection, remorse, or bitterness or hate...}

...

When a [boy] picks up a gun and calls it his own, it is sad, it is inevitable, that pain; it is inevitable that sorrow will follow him for the rest of his days.

To be truly Godly, one must take responsibility for his actions. That is our mortality, we can never be perfect. This is our curse, as [HE] laughs at our sorrow.

…

Hello my friend. Goodbye my friend.

I remember the past. Our laughter and our joys. Also, our pains and our sorrows. To be killed by the one you love, there can be no other perfect end to the story.

How much we have changed, how much we have sacrificed. Blaming ourselves for our shortcomings, the past seems so trivial. It's so easy to create life, so hard to nurture it, yet so easy to end it. This is the irony of the world.

I KILL YOU. I HAVE MADE A CHOICE

…and that choice. When [love] becomes [hatred], if only to justify your convictions… I SET YOU FREE, partner.

"CLARK!"

The empty brass shell leapt above. Hopeful, defiant, and passionate. An empty brass shell wanted to reach the heavens, up until the last moment, when it stopped in mid air. Then the Earth took hold… gravity welcomed it back to pain.

Sayonara, Aibou (Goodbye, partner)

The hammer roared down as if the fist of judgment. Its forged steel and another link was put into place, into the cruel way of the world. This chain.

Right or wrong, this was what happened and will be chiseled into time. You cannot regret the past. Each moment, each static picture will shape the future. Whether you let it affect your own life, or drive you to destroy the others' future.

**MAYBE IT'S A SIGN, WHEN WE KISS they're PERFECTLY ALIGNED.**

**…and when you scan the radio, I hope this song will guide you.**

Memories shaping our future. Please, I beg of you, fight it.

OFF

Static… Just static. Then, darkness.

…

"Shut up!" Ralf yelled as he kicked Sai Weng aside and grabbed a fistful of Ching's hair. Ralf shoved his pistol head into Ching's mouth. "Blow it!" Ralf roared. "You slime! I hate you..."

Saliva slid down the barrel as Ching started to choke and his teeth chattered on the black steel in his fright.

"This is for Sergio." Ralf whispered...

"No...!" Sai Weng shouted.

"Wait... Ralf!" Clark yelled as he got up.

...

"My father is the best there is." Ralf said to his grade school classmates. "He is a secret agent. Cool huh? He shoots bad guys and is a hero."

In war when you kill someone, you're a hero... But in the peaceful world, it doesn't work that way. Criminal or executioner, you're all murderers.

...

How things have changed since that time... When Ralf was still a child. All broken with the truth. The knowledge and truth. His realization of the world his father lived in.

...

"...and another link to the endless chain..." Ralf blew a hole through the back of Ching's head that send chunks of head in all directions.

The silence that ensued afterwards was deafening. Clark slumped in exhaustion on a chair. Sai Weng sobbed spastically next to his father's ground up body and cradled it in his arms.

"FUCK!" Ralf cursed and threw the empty magazine to the floor and loaded in a new one with an authourative hit as the slide slammed into place.

He raised it and pointed it to Sai Weng.

Clark was denied his rest and leapt up at the sudden chaos - he ran and threw his right hand down onto Ralf's pistol as he had been trained. Putting himself between Ralf and the boy, he hunched 75% of his weight downwards as he thrust his left hand up behind Ralf's elbow.

He knew the move well. In retaliation Ralf lowered his center of mass to counter the weight and slammed his left palm over his own right thumb as soon as he felt Clark pull back. Then the hand slammed the slide of his pistol back into battery before moving it to counter Clark's controlling hand.

Ralf's rage stopped for a moment when he saw the blonde man fearless in front of him. His indecisiveness was all Clark needed. That moment when Ralf didn't fire the trigger was all he needed to swerve to the side from the line of fire, he pushed the gun's muzzle skywards. It fired and made Ralf winch to the side from the sudden flash, the empty shell that spat out hitting him on the forehead. By the time Ralf could reorient himself, it was too late – Clark, totally unfazed by the flash acted – he wrapped all of his left bicep around Ralf's wrist, his right forearm pushing the barrel of the pistol back towards Ralf.

Planting his right foot into the ground, Clark released a push kick into his friend, releasing the gun and heaving Ralf backwards.

What the FUCK do you think you're doing. Have you gone insane? The kid isn't part of the contract.

"You don't understand at all you selfish bastard!" Ralf spat back. "All you know is deals.. and money.. and killing. You're nothing but a butcher."

No it's you who's trash! You're the one who gets personal vendettas mixed up in business, and that's what fucks you up! Remember Alex? You were always his favorite and kept you off point. I hated him for it, but I knew that couldn't do anything, because it was part of the business, to send one man off for the sake of the whole platoon. If I had let it get to me, I would be dead by now, just like how fucked up YOU are.

...

"Okay Clark, it's showtime." Alex called out as signaled that it was his turn (again) to go act rooster.

Rooster is a term used back in 'Nam. It refers to the 'point man', someone in the platoon who is sent out ahead of the rest of the group, short of a human sacrifice, to draw out snipers, traps and mines. When the 'rooster' would 'crow' it would mean that there were dangers up ahead. A mandatory sacrifice for comradeship.

Clark knew he wasn't in good terms with Alex, their troupe commander. Alex always liked Ralf the best. However, unlike Ralf who was unstable and emotional, Clark never became bitter. He took it all in stride, and with every time he came back alive, he saw it as a gift. A chance to prove himself. It became a game to Clark, as to who would be the last to stand. Like a group of moths who circle the flame. If you don't go near enough, you'll go down the first time you pass the flame. Clark became calculating, and remorseless.

He played the game, and loved the feeling of how he could win it by the rules. Stay alive and you win to try your luck again, but in truth, the game was playing him.

...

Ralf's temples fumed and he sent his fist towards Clark's solemn face. Clark slid his arm under Ralf's, this sent his punch off. Clark then rammed Ralf's abdomen with his elbow and coiled his arms around Ralf's waist. With all the strength he could muster, Clark flipped Ralf over as easily as a cheerleader would flip a baton, and send Ralf's back dropping down to his jagged knee. Ralf tensed and in an instant reached for his waist and grabbed on to Clark's arm, and like a gymnast spun around avoiding the backbreaker. Upon hitting solid ground, Ralf dug his heels deep and charged with his fist leading, Clark followed suit, and they both hit each other's lungs, knocking the air out if it. They both twisted simultaneously and sent a backhand to each other's face. They wobbled for a second and dug uppercuts into each other's stomachs. Clark wobbled back while Ralf knelt and spat blood.

Still not satisfied, Ralf charged and send a hundred fists punching up towards Clark. Clark saw the move and countered it identically. Knuckle met knuckle and the shattering claps resonated down their arms and bones. Still noone gained the upper hand.

Ralf let out a yell and with that his fists burst out in flames. Clark could hardly keep up, since the force of Ralf's punches was overwhelming, that, couples with the flames needed his full effort to keep them at bay.

"How's THAT!" Ralf called as he kept the flames dancing on his fists.

…

You know nothing but to yell and scream in your bitter world. Unlike you, I live with the cards dealt to me. I learned from the times I was at point. Bitterness and hate don't exist in my world. I mold it to my advantage. You don't need to be just strong when you're at point.

Clark dealt his secret hand and increased the rhythm of his beating. He kept up with the power of Ralf's barrage and more. His punches would keep in pace with Ralf's, just keeping them away from hitting, but now he became faster. For every punch Ralf would send, Clark would reply with two, and to Ralf surprise, he couldn't counter all of Clarks hits. More and more punches would get through his wave and hit him in the chest. One by one Clarks fists would break through and pound Ralf's lungs. At the brink of exhaustion, Ralf gave in and Clark ground him up, his punches lifting Ralf up an inch and then two then three off the ground, and it ended with a full swing which sent Ralf sprawling to the ground, spasming like a fish out of water.

…

It stopped, because the weakness had been replaced. We have to move forward one way or another.

…

"He's just a kid." Forget him. More guards are coming, lets make a break for it.

Ralf stood up in frustration and wiped the blood from his chin and lips. He switched his gaze at Sai Weng who's tears had dried up.

Ralf ripped a loose tatter from his white sleeve to wipe Ching's blood from the rest of his neck and let it drop to hell. When Ralf laid his eyes onto the boy, it seemed that he knew what to do. The sobbing stopped. The harsh heavy metal music screeched to a halt, and it was replaced to a calming melody that danced between slow and fast then finally eased to a soft melody.

All that was left was hate in his eyes. Sai Weng kept the sobs in him until it hurt, but he wouldn't cry or sniffle any more.

"So, I am the bad man, eh?" Ralf whispered softly to Sai Weng, who would not hear him. "You hate me now don't you?" …Do you? "If you HATE me… Then GROW UP! And when you do, I'll be waiting for you. Then, you can take your revenge..."

Clark led the way out the dining room with Ralf following suit. Sai Weng knelt amongst the parade of dead bodies. He held his 'good', 'innocent' father in his hands, and clenched his fists.

…

This is the life of a mercenary. A game. The rules are simple... To live.. To die... The game has no end... And no one can break the rules of the Endless Chain.


	13. Death, the Ultimate High

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

"You're a very strange ninja…"

"You know, people like us can't hope to exist in the outside world."

I changed a bit in this remix.. sadly making it more melodramatic as I would like it to be.. I will try to cut that down, as I think a well paced story starts out very mundane and only resorts to IMPACT PAIN in key moments…

Okay gotta –edit- some voices of [GOD]…

Welcome home Eiji. Let's fight together.

-09.13.04

**Chapter 13: Death, the ultimate high…**

"Very well, but I do not want to soil my hands with your blood..." Yagami-sama uttered as he slowly eased Iori slowly towards the 17 year old Eiji. "Saaa, Iori (now, Iori), kill him for me.

Eiji saw but could not believe the events that followed. As the 8 year old took off his cap that exposed his maroon hair, he grabbed a handful of his kimono, and with savage explosion, tore it off his body. He wore dark purple jeans and a black studded leather jacket. In an instant Iori burst into flames.

"Teme (bastard)... Yagami..." Eiji stuttered with his left forearm shielding his face from the sudden wave of fearful energy, but before he could protest, Iori was a blur even to Eiji's eyes. Using his minute and slender body's speed to his advantage, slithering like a greased serpent, his elbow leading the way.

Eiji totally taken by surprise, caught the elbow in the gut, and Iori followed with his left hand. He swung his clawed hand like an uppercut and dug his fingers into Eiji's diaphragm. Eiji tensed his gut to prevent any sort of internal damage and quickly grabbed a hold of Iori's left wrist with his own right, and hammered down with his free hand to break Iori's hold with a sudden shock and after dislodging Iori's fingers, pulled the boy in and to the side, hoping to make Iori follow through and lose balance. The 8 year old tumbled a bit and lost his footing as Eiji pulled him in. Instinctively Eiji's left elbow came up ready to ram Iori's unprotected nose in. Eiji hesitated and instead, spun his hand over and instead of the elbow, let his palm grab Iori's back and with a handful of Iori's leather jacket, followed through and let Iori pass him harmlessly.

Within a few seconds Iori regained his footing, spun around and hopped up about a foot or two. He used his momentum to come around with a roundhouse kick aimed for Eiji's head. Eiji ducked down, expecting the roundhouse to pass harmlessly, but he couldn't dismiss the evil smile on Iori's face. To Eiji's surprise, he had fallen for Iori's expected trick, and instead of the roundhouse passing harmlessly, Iori's foot stopped right on top of Eiji's head. Eiji, now in a kneeling position, crossed his hands over his head as the ax kick came down. The force came as a surprise from such a small bodied fighter, and made Eiji's elbows bend. In a flash Eiji diverted the hacking kick to the side, and when the cross block broke, Iori's blow came down as hard as a hammer into Eiji's collarbone. Eiji winced as the vibration shivered down his arm, numbing it, and before anything else, Iori held his right hand in his left and tucked it in. With his right elbow leading, Iori drove a shoulder ram into Eiji's lungs, knocking the wind out of them, making his head spin and his legs wobble in its squatting position like a dazed duck.

{Jesas...} Eiji cursed to himself. {I've… have to get away from here...} Yagami-sama only smiled and praised his son silently with his menacing grin. Breaking his crossed hands, he waved to Iori with the back of his hand like you would shoo a dog, prodding Iori to finish off the insignificant, weak willed Eiji.

Eiji looked around with his eyeballs, to the left and right, looking for some open avenue of escape.

"Looking to run away, Kisaragi-kun?" Yagami-sama sneered. "Did you hear that?" He mocked again, kicking the lifeless bodies of Masa and Mikaido. "He's going to run away.. HAHAAHAHA!"

"KONOYARO (son of a bitch)!" Eiji roared as he sped to Iori. Iori smiled and sent his clawed hands in defense, eagerly waiting for Eiji to sacrifice himself in such a daring and stupid assault. Iori had his left hand up now, and his right close to his own belly. The left hand had his index and middle fingers poking out like the fangs of a cobra, aimed for Eiji's eyeballs, and his right hand would be ready to finish the job by sending all four digits through his throat.

Unlike a sprinter's dash which relies on long leaps, covering as much distance in the air as possible, the ninja dash is firm and spends as little time as possible in the air. It is so timed and focused that each conscious step is measured. It is more centered on dexterity rather than power or speed. More like a very very fast walk, a ninja is always in control, and the technique has a very elusive ability. Eiji continued, running like the wind, yet making no sound as swift as a cat. Iori smiled and was ready. In an instant, Eiji was directly in front of Iori, Eiji's left fist close to his lungs, and his other hand behind him flat on his back. The rush of wind, the tensing muscles, all the nerves in both their bodies screaming in alarm in that last moment. It made no sound. Iori attacked... Ready to gouge Eiji's eyes out, and his other flying up to make him suck air out his throat.

Eiji's eyes slit, and on his command, his thighs exploded into a tense impact, digging themselves into the wooden floor, and when Iori hit target, he could have sworn he made it, but when he looked all he had in his hands was Eiji's mask. Iori tensed and realized that Eiji was already behind him, rushing for his father. Iori could not follow the illusion, but Yagami-sama could, quite easily.

The last instant, Eiji waited for the precise moment that Iori's claws blocked his line of vision, and for that instant, Eiji twisted his ankles and sidestepped, right around Iori without him realizing it, and sidestepped back again into his original 'line', running 'through' Iori. With that sidestep into the original path the wind which was pulled out from the sidestep was sucked back in, stilling the air and completing the technique. Paying no further attention to Iori, Eiji changed his focus to Yagami-sama. From it's place behind his back, Eiji made his right fist extend behind him like a streamer, a fist except for his ring and pinkie which poked out like a stinger. Now that Eiji's steps were second nature, he changed his breathing to deep rhythmic gasps drawing in energy and focusing. The vision of Yagami-sama came closer and closer as he ran, and in the last precise moment that Eiji knew Yagami would not dodge, he dealt out his secret hand. Aiming for Yagami's throat, he swang his right hand like a blade, and his last two fingers left a deep orange afterimage, a semicircular light, much like a scythe which marked the path of his cutting fingers.

"SHI-NE! (DIE)" Eiji yelled, fueled with desire. His fingers passed through Yagami's neck like a hot knife through butter, easily lopping off his head. But there was no reaction from Yagami-sama's grim demeanor, and to Eiji's terror, the image of Yagami-sama exploded in a swirl of sakura petals and what was in his place was the lifeless body of Masa. Eiji stopped, as blood from Masa's neck splashed across his face, drenching his hair, making it sticky and caking it.

"MASA!" Eiji screamed...

Laughter followed from behind him, and as Eiji turned, Yagami-sama pinched the back of Eiji's neck, numbing his spine. Eiji could only watch as Yagami-sama put his palms forward and started to trace circles in the air, big circles with his right palm and a small one with his left, ever so often switching from big and small left and right. The circular space in front of Yagami warped and Eiji felt himself being thrown back, before Eiji could comprehend the damage capable of Yagami's pressure barrier, he was hurled back into the concrete wall. A stencil of Eiji's limp body started to crack and form on the wall that would make you believe it was made of Styrofoam, pushing him further and further in. Yagami-sama abruptly stopped the motion and as suddenly as it happened, the pressure in the air equalized and the crater in the wall exploded flinging Eiji onto the ground like a rag doll.

Yagami threw two fingers down, making one last sign for Iori to finish the job. His body was battered and he shook uncontrollably, Eiji tried to haul himself up, using his arms to move and regain some composure. He reached in front of him, and in his hands he felt cloth, the cloth Mikaido's ninja mask. As Eiji pulled the mask towards him, he could remember Mikaido's works. For him to go on, to flee, escape from this life. The image faded and when Eiji focused again he could only see Mikaido's corpse.

Eiji looked up and Iori was slowly making his way to Eiji. Determined not to take death like a dog, with his belly on the ground, Eiji hoisted himself up with what strength he had left. When he thought he could push his body up, he felt his elbow buckle from the strain and he coughed up blood that ran down his mouth and neck. Iori only watched as if he was examining a squirrel that had been run over by a car, so ready to die and defiantly trying to regain some composure. He knew it was useless, but he watched anyways.

It was either him or Iori, it had boiled down to that. He had to get away, forsake his friends' bodies, and somehow, someday take his revenge. With a weak and defeated smile, Eiji once again heaved his body up with his weak palms and ignored the streaming pain from all over his body. His shoulders tensed and would give in at any moment but he defied it. He believed that If he willed it, it could become [true]. That if he was determined enough he could accomplish the [impossible]. Eiji's elbows buckled again, but before he fell completely, he caught himself and was able to use his knees as a brace.

"Jiku.. Jikusyou… (damn.. daaamn it!)" Eiji cussed. "JIKU-SHYOU, TEMEEEE!"

…

"Saa.. Hey let's get the job done. Then we can be free from this place."

"You're a very strange ninja…"

"You know, people like us can't hope to exist in the outside world."

"Your dreams will never come true you know. Why fight it?"

"Totally overpowered by the real world, I guess we keep on fighting cause… because we just [can]."

"We can win because we BELIEVE!"

"Don't worry buddy, I won't die on my belly like a dog."

"WHY – DO – YOU – FIGHT?"

Phantom voices started to whisper in his ear.

"No… not yet. Please… not yet." Eiji pleaded. His knees shook too but defiantly, he was able to get himself up to a slouch as the audience watched him in disgust. Shivering hands, Eiji donned Mikaido's mask, which only covered the lower section of his face. Iori stopped and let his opponent get a few more moments to regain his stance.

"Ore.. Ore wo.. Amaku miruna yo! (Don't… Don't belittle me.)" Eiji mumbled.

Eiji let his mind wander off, {Like a lamb ready for the slaughter,} Iori thought. In a slouch Eiji let his eyebrows lose its tension. He ran his fingers through his blood-soaked hair pulling it back, and slowly the front of his hair stood up spiked from the bloody slick back. The warm crimson ran down his cheeks like tears and yet Eiji didn't close his eyes. The ninja put his open palms to his side and stood straight, leaving his body open to any attack.

The spiked hair was Masa's strength, the open cut ninja mask by the hair was Mikaido's final sign, and Eiji Kisaragi, he cast all his faith into the wind. A futile defense, Iori examined, hit him anywhere and he would go down for sure... The other ninja archers could not see it, but Yagami-sama could. A soft yellow glow enveloped Eiji. Trapped in a state between death and life, all the world seemed to fall silent and he could hear the wind and the whistling of the trees perfectly. Yagami-sama was taken aback for a while and quickly snapped...

"Iori! FINISH HIM NOW!" Yagami-sama yelled.

Iori moved instantly, rushing towards Eiji like an arrow, ready to pull his heart out. There was an explosion of blood and Iori poked his fingers into Eiji's chest. Iori's fingers wiggled hungrily inside Eiji's torso, ripping and tearing for his pulsating prize. Iori stopped and his eyes darted open, not believing his sudden realization. To Iori's horror, he couldn't feel a heartbeat.

"O..Ottt.. To.. Otosan.. (f..father)" Iori stuttered in confusion and fright.

...

Doubt. Faith...

Once you remove all doubt from yourself, then your opponents' will increase by a hundredfold. When you conquer doubt in your abilities, then you can conquer even [death].

...

Eiji's lifeless body glowed even brighter to Yagami-sama's eyes, and even though he was supposed to be dead, Eiji raised his right palm and placed it firmly onto Iori's shoulder. Blood flowed from Eiji's mouth and the murmurs which were once indecipherable became clearer, the voice was not only Eiji's but of Masa and Mikaido's as well.

Yagami-sama looked on, as specters of Mikaido and Masa floated and merged into Eiji's corpse.

...

Is the true power, the greatest power in the world... death?

...

"Ki... koh... HO!" Eiji bellowed.

A soft light started to glow from the ninja's hand, and in a moment, it flashed sharply. Sending the light through Iori's shoulder. Iori flew back all the way into the wall and skidded down like a sack of potatoes.

Eiji turned back menacingly to Yagami-sama, who was more infuriated rather than scared. He slowly lifted his hand up to strike but before he could make it half way he realized that Eiji had suddenly appeared only a 5 feet away from him.

"Let him... go..." Masa and Mikaido's voices slurred from Eiji's blood-filled mouth when Eiji was so close to Yagami-sama. Eiji focused all his attention into Yagami-sama's midsection. The surrounding world went black, leaving Eiji and Yagami-sama alone to Eiji's perspective. Eiji focused more on the point in Yagami's chest until Yagami's body blurred and before Yagami-sama could do anything in retaliation, Eiji started to walk closer, leaving a trail of afterimages, specters of himself behind him. Like a ghost, Eiji walked through Yagami-sama. The ninja archers broke from their cocked stances, and Iori as well, tried to stay awake to witness the event that was unfolding in front of him. An arrow raced past Yagami-sama's cheek and was headed to the back of Eiji's neck. It stopped in midair, and fell to the ground in two pieces, split through the center point of the arrowhead, down vertically through its wooden shaft. Eiji's last two fingers floated in the air.

"I want Masa and Mikaido's bodies.." Eiji's own voice moaned.

"I killed them and they belong to me, you will owe me a favour then," Yagami-sama said to the specter.

"So be it, Yagami..." Eiji said.

The ninja walked over to Masa and Mikaido's body and slung them both on his shoulders effortlessly. Without a word, the ninja marched slowly to the wall and as the last of his body phased through the wall a swirl of sakura petals came pinwheeling from the wall.

...

EPILOGUE:

A few miles from Yagami palace, the 17 year old ninja knelt down. Something in his dead chest started to move. One beat and two, in no time his heart was pumping again, the colour came back to his cheeks, and his eyes started to dilate normally now. Still unsure of what just happened, Eiji looked at the dead bodies of Masa and Mikaido, his fallen comrades.

"KUSANAGI!" Eiji Bellowed skyward - in the bamboo forest and collapsed on their bodies, beating their chests, as hard as he could, he tried to breathe in their mouths, his mind void of any rational thought. With enough faith maybe he could bring them back to life.

"BAKAYARO! BAKAYARO! (idiots!)" Eiji yelled to their lifeless bodies. The events that came moments ago came back to him. He wanted the power, once again to make them live. Eiji yelled louder and louder... hoping, praying, but no one listened, no one answered. Eiji dug his fingers into the soil till they bled. After an hour of fearless – shameless defiance, he slumped back onto a bamboo tree and cradled his face in his hands.

"Kusa...na..gi..." Eiji whispered... "KU.. SA.. NAGIIIII…"

With a stern look, Eiji held his katana (sword) in his hand and slung it on his back. He put his comrades' bodies on his shoulders. His knees wobbled but he trodded on.

...

{To Kusanagi palace. } He called silently.

The guards thought they had seen a ghost as Eiji appeared appeared before them, wet with blood, looking like Masa and Mikaido because of his mask and hair, with the two bodies on him. Frantic shrieks pierced the air - The guards fled in horror, and the few who dared oppose his fury fell to his merciless, remorseless blade.

[VIOLENCE]. It has only one purpose in this world… So sad when good men have to rely on this to make [a single dream(s)] come true…

The power was slowly flowing through him once again. The faint yellow glow, now more radiant and visible to even normal folk made him look like an angel, or death.

Masa's limp body was behind him in a piggy back and Mikaido was over his left shoulder. Eiji, Masa, and Mikaido, all three were together for their vengeance, to seal the game and pay Kusanagi back for the unfair hand they were dealt.

The fiercest of the Kusanagi Ninja were stationed outside the sleeping quarters of Yoshiki Kusanagi, and this was where Eiji's battle truly began. The beat of his heart slowed down and his eyes became pupiless. Two ninja came... running down the tall marble stairs. As if Eiji had nothing on his back, he sped up to meet them half way. The two ninja jumped in the air and Eiji followed suit. Before either of the two defenders could aim, Eiji's sword was out its sheath. In a blinding slash the ninja on the left took the slice by the eyes, and his head split in two. Eiji's blade freed the other's head from his shoulders.

Merciless as it was, they were never given the luxury to appease for the sins they had done in the real world… Two slabs of meat fell with a harsh and heavy thump on the clean marble floor. The cold stone.

Five now. The first lead the way and the rest followed behind. Quick to the attack, the leading katana tore through Eiji's side, but it was futile as Eiji merely let his ring finger and pinkie slide on the ninja's face. That was the last thing that entered that ninja's mind as his field of vision split cleanly in two like a broken television screen. Fear overcame the final four. Echoes of 'he can't die,' and 'we won't make it' passed through them. The doubt that clouded their focus. Which came as their downfall.

The alarm sounded and the rest of the ninja concentrated to defend Yoshiki Kusanagi's room, but if they wanted Eiji, they would have to wait another eternity because Eiji headed for Kaori Kusanagi's room instead.

...

Kaori knelt in her room, not totally aware of what was happening outside, but she could feel [it]. To live alone and a prisoner was too much for her to bear. She knew the truth – that her father had sentenced her lover to death. [SUFFERING and HAPPINESS go hand in hand,] she thought.

Kaori Kusanagi stared at the darkness in her room… hoping that the world would suddenly end. In her hand was a small kozuka (utility knife), shivering in her dainty hands she didn't know what to do. Would it be so dramatic as to end it this way, would the future forgive her…

She threw the silk wrapped kozuka in front of her… its forged steel rattling on the wooden floor. She was afraid. Gripping the collar of her kimono in her hands as the rabid sound of alarm echoed through the Kusanagi complex.

"I…" she mumbled with outstretched palms.

"Tadaima… (I'm home.)" was her answer. "Omatasetta'naa… Kaori dono… (I've kept you waiting Miss Kaori.)," he said confidently. With tears in her eyes, those of joy, Kaori held his lover's cheeks, pulled him close and kissed him. It was a silent pact. "Eiji… I've been waiting for you."

"Okaerinasai (welcome home)…"

Trembling in the hallway outside the door, Kyo Kusanagi, 6 years old. Looked in awe at his cousin, kissing at what he thought for sure was a ghost.

Eiji had come back for the prize he was cheated of. The glow became brighter then, as ravagely as it burned, it faded. Eiji, Masa, Mikaido and Kaori were gone in a swirl of burning yellow sakura petals.

As quickly as it had began, [justice] dealt its swift decision.

This is the beauty of a world, an existence apart from the real world – In that - even a [doG] can become [God].

Thus their revenge was completed, if at least one of the trio was happy...

…

If a friend dies for you, you are cursed to live for eternity.

-Judas Gospel


	14. La Bizarre Love Pentagon

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

I hate love stories. (and that much has not changed…)

-01.11.04

**Chapter 14: La Bizarre Love Pentagon**

With a skip of glee, Yuri waltzed through the doors of La Bijoux, her place of employment - King's jazz club. It was around 1:30 PM, too early for Yuri to check into work, but today was a half-day off school for her. She was usually at work past 4:00, ready to open the pub, at the latest, 6:00 or maybe on Mondays, 8:00. {What the Heck...} She thought. With an early start, maybe she could take it easy, or better yet - beat Robert to the dressing room.

Yuri jingled the keyring in her brown schoolbag that hung over her shoulders until she found the correct door key and entered La Bijoux. The chairs still lay upside down, perched on the tables. This was a good sign. She proceeded to head for the den...

Upon entering, Yuri quickly put her back to the door and closed it shut. She then proceeded to open the cabinets and looked behind the couch, to any nook and cranny Robert Garcia may be hiding. With no sign of that pervert, Yuri finally put her mind at ease. Maybe this was her lucky day. Without another thought, Yuri set her bag on the coat rack and threw her brown blazer on the couch and proceeded to pull down her skirt. Yuri went over to the closet, opened it and looked into the 6-foot mirror on the closet door. She gave a little smile and ran her hand through her hair before unbuttoning her blouse. She felt a slight cramp bellow her belly all of a sudden, and decided to take a leak. Yuri casually walked over to the bathroom and opened the door.

Lo and behold, when Yuri entered the bathroom, there was Robert, sitting calmly on the toilet seat, pants down, split legged, reading an old issue of Newtype magazine. Sensing the sudden change of atmosphere, Robert slowly looked up from his reading. Yuri, front open and skirtless; and Robert, with his pants down, stared at each other, their brains trying to digest the inconceivable scene.

A few seconds passed...

"Hentai! (pervert)", They both screamed in unison.

Yuri stormed out of the bathroom, and Robert instinctively covered his privates with the magazine.

...

Yuri made a mad dash to the couch, grabbed her skirt , and made a b-line for the exit of the den. Robert came out of the bathroom, now with pants on in pursuit.

"What the hell is..." Robert started, but was muffled by a near endless barrage of throw pillows.

Yuri blushed furiously and ran out to take refuge behind the bar.

...

When finally safe, Yuri's hands went on auto-mode; buttoned up her blouse, pulled up her skirt, put a headband on, and armed herself with a slew of steak knives, ready to make Robert a pincushion if he dared show his perverted face.

Then something caught Yuri's eye as she scanned the long bar table in front of her. It was an open envelope, and a letter. Being as curious as a cat, Yuri picked up the letter and envelope. It was from King's father. Before her mind and conscience could tell her that what she was doing was rather rude, she was hopelessly lost. Yuri's eyes widened and she couldn't stop reading. Never mind, someone else played conscience for her.

"Is that for you!?" Boomed a voice as Yuri was halfway into King's letter.

Yuri was so engrossed with the letter that she didn't notice Robert step into the main bar area, and a jingle of steak knives chimed as Yuri dropped them all in surprise.

"I... I..." Yuri stammered, losing her train of thought.

"You're early!" Robert immediately cut in, taking advantage of the fact that Yuri had momentarily forgotten what just happened.

"Half.. Half day..." Yuri spat out. "I was... out early today." She said erratically as she desperately tried to put the letter back the way she found it.

Robert grinned a little. The red on Yuri's cheeks started to glow and she broke into a cold sweat...

"Uh... You won't tell King about this.." Yuri said, her tone lost between a command, a question, and a request.

Robert grinned again, closed his eyes and slapped his forehead. "Come on, let's fight." He said.

"Eh?!" Yuri replied in some strange, awkward, but obviously confused tone.

"Upstairs. The gym." Robert called. Use one of King's leotards... Let's spar."

The confused Yuri merely nodded like a zombie and went to the den to change. Before Yuri collected her senses, a black and gray leotard was already in her hands. She let out a heavy breath and put it on.

...

King's gym was on the second floor of La Bijoux; not the stairs leading up to King's bedroom, but the revolving staircase in the den. the gym had an 'all in one', one of those exercise contraptions you see on the home shopping network out on one corner, and pads scattered all over the floor. The walls were just mirrors and Robert didn't bother to pull down the padding for the walls that would come down like venetian blinds.

"Robert-san!" Yuri called from the bottom of the staircase.

"Up here; You don't have anything to do anyway." Robert answered.

Robert was wearing a white tank top and gray sweatshorts; By the time Yuri was up the stairs, he was already putting on his sparring stuff. The gear consisted of gloves which covered your knuckles and the side of your palm with padding, as well as elbow guards, knee pads, and shin guards. Garcia put on some padded shoes as well. Robert pointed to the lockers, and Yuri proceeded to put on some of the gear as well.

"You want to put on _body_ armour as well?" Robert asked.

"No, I think you can keep your hands off where they don't belong..." Yuri answered sarcastically.

"Okay, okay!" Robert called as he slapped his palms together. "Let's do it!" and he went into a stance with his fists up.

"Are you sure? We might wake up King-san..." Yuri said, "We have to set up soon as well..." She tried to think up excuses not to go on.

Robert only flashed a reassuring smile. Ryo Sakazaki, his best friend, was Yuri's overprotective brother, and what Ryo hated most was to see Yuri do any fighting. As expected, Yuri loved to fight, and it was like cutting school or underage drinking for her; gives her a sense of thrill. With one last wave of guilt, she asked Robert if it was okay.

Garcia knew the answer she was waiting for. "I won't tell your brother," He said. With that, Yuri gave a big smile and answered by putting her fists up.

...

What time is it?... 1:45 PM? King, hardly the early bird, couldn't tell. Her long sleeved white shirt was open, and from the waist down, she was covered under her white sheets. It was quite a surprise she was up this early. Chances are, she hardly had any sleep last night. It wasn't the fatiguing work, but because of something more sobering.

"'To-san... (father)" King whispered to herself in her sitting position.

King brushed away her hair from the front of her face, but it flopped back down to her frowning face. She looked to the side and saw a stray pack of Marlboros a maroon haired, seemingly belligerent Japanese left behind. Today must have been "What the heck" day. King fumbled through her drawers until she found a lighter. King pulled out a cigarette out and lit it. She sucked on it slowly, nothing happened, but as she tried to breathe normally again, her lungs gave in and she coughed up a storm.

"K'soo... (damn it)" She said. "How can they stand these."

The pack of Marlboros came flying into the trash can, and King tried to clear her lungs and wipe the sweat off her brows with the sheets.

"K'soo... (damn it)." She said again, trying to clear her throat, to purge the bad taste from her mouth so very early in the morning. The morning...

...

Yuri kept a steady beat, pacing her attacks as not to tire herself too quickly. She let go a quick jab to Robert's face, then a full swing with her right arm, a usual pattern, and Robert turned his face to the side for the jab and heaved his upper torso back to dodge the swing. Although it was a predictable routine, it was a good one since it kept her opponent at bay and didn't leave her defense open. High-lows. When Yuri's full swing missed, she was quick to step back in and target Robert's belly. Robert sent his palm down and slapped the jab off. Yuri broke the routine and suddenly attacked with a quick kick to Robert's shin guard.

Robert was taken aback and withdrew his shin. Garcia watched Yuri's feet, expecting her to attack with a quick kick to his face now, akin to his own patented low-high lightning kick. Instead, Yuri used the momentum of her dropping kick to lever her upper body and swing a left hook to Robert's cheek. The padding dulled any sort of pain, but Robert still recoiled from the punch. A split second later as he looked back, Yuri spun all the way around, nailing a clear hit at Robert's belly under his high block with her turning kick.

Yuri kept her foot there for a moment, then slowly she withdrew her leg, keeping it bent and let it hang in the air - for dramatic effect of course. She kept her eyes locked to Robert's... Waiting. Garcia gave a nod and a cheerful look, acknowledging the clean score. Yuri smiled and relaxed from her "Chun Li" stance, elated and full of glee.

"Ya Ta Ze! (alright)" Yuri cheered. A great finish to a VERY long fifteen-minute routine.

Yuri let out a breath she had been holding because of the balancing stance, and let her bottom come crashing down to the floor. She lied back and spread her arms wide, taking long deep breaths. She looked to the side and smiled to her mirror image in congratulations, then let her line of vision go up to the ceiling.

Yuri closed her eyes and just wanted to stay that way forever.

"Uz." Yuri heard a grunt from Robert.

Yuri opened her eyes and saw Robert, in a squat next to her, offering a white towel. She hoisted herself up in a sitting position with her feet wide and scrubbed her face furiously with the towel. By this time, Yuri's breathing had slowed down and normalized. She ran her towel down her neck, wiped her beading sweat that ran down her heaving chest and finished off her damp arms. Yuri was letting some air between her leotard and shirt when she heard Robert again. When she looked up, Robert was bending down with a tall icy glass in his hand.

"Lemonade?" Robert offered... "No vodka." He was quick to add, reassuring the paranoid Yuri that it was clean.

Whether or not it was spiked, Yuri couldn't care less, for a nice tall cold glass of anything was what she wanted right now. With no argument, Yuri hosed the Lemonade down in an instant, showing no mercy, even sucked on the cubes of ice. She finally remembered to continue to breathe when she was sure that she had left the glass void of even a drop of lemonade. In front of her, Robert stood up and took off his tank top, making beads of sweat bounce of his firm, muscular chest. He had in his hand a large pitcher of lemonade with squeezed halved lemons and ice cubes floating in it. Before he could even sit himself down properly on the mats, the rim of the pitcher was already kissing his lips, and he was chugging it down like there was no tomorrow. Yuri was staring at the crazed Garcia as the lemonade slowly disappeared, as if there was a hole in the back of this man's neck. Unconsciously, Yuri didn't notice her gaze wander off, and she was unknowingly staring at Robert's naked torso, admiring his heaving chest. At work, Robert's purple shirt and orange vest had remarkably hidden his {great looking body}, she mused. She was about to imagine what his butt would look like, then suddenly snapped out of it, realizing that this was Robert, of all people she was looking at. She decided to look up at his ugly mug, maybe his obnoxious face would sober her up.

Robert was tired as well, no Jim Carrey imitations here, the fatigue showed even up to his limp looking face, that they wouldn't so much as twitch to curl into even a faint version of his devilish grin. In some sort of way, Yuri was kind of insulted. Here she was in a sweaty T-shirt and leotard, Robert was inches away from her; Not just anyone, it was ROBERT we're talking about, as sober as a rock. She didn't break her somewhat uneasy look at Robert. His hair was a mess, strands of hair coming loose from his once neat ponytail, streaking his face. Yuri felt a blush from her cheeks, more than just the result of the spar.

Robert suddenly opened his eyes without warning, surprised to find Yuri staring blankly at him.

Sensing the uneasy and moreover, awkward atmosphere, Yuri quickly stood up and bowed low.

"DOMO ARIGATO GOZAIMASU! (thank you so much)" Yuri shot out too quickly, in gratitude of the drink Robert had unexpectedly prepared; and SHARED with her. Afraid to look up and show her blushing face; She remained in her bowing position.

Robert let out a chuckle, then a laugh. "Oooh... " Robert cooed. "Ojosama (mistress) Yuri-sama is thanking meee, Robert Garcia for his services." He said in a joking sneer.

Yuri stood up slowly, wondering if she made herself look like a fool, and more importantly, if Robert noticed that she had accidentally 'looked him over'.

"Ano... (Uhm...)" She mumbled, keeping her hands behind her back and shuffling her feet.

Robert flashed his usual evil grin, overtly letting hs eyes survey uri's body from head to toe, stopping conviniently at her midsection.

"BAKA! (jerk) HENTAI! (pervert)" She called. Now feeling more relieved that everything seemed back to normal.

Robert answered with a somewhat forced laugh, and slung his hand behind his neck in embarrassment. More like a halfhearted facade than the expected lecherous grin of malice. This worried Yuri a bit, but decided that Robert being tired merely affected his sex-crazed nature.

"How is Ryo-kun?" Robert broke the long silent tension.

"Oni-chan? (big brother)" Yuri said. "Uh, he's okay..."

"Still having trouble with him?" Robert asked.

"A bit. he's still the same... just like 'To-chan. (dad)."

"After all this time, he still doesn't want you to train?"

Yuri pouted. "Moooh! (expression of frustration) He's still as stubborn as he always was. Chauvinistic and bossy."

Robert returned with a reassuring look. "You do know that he's only trying to be oniisan (big brother). He cares for you. He didn't even sleep when you were in that mess. The 'troubles'. You got in trouble once already, and he just doesn't want it to happen again..."

Yuri's mind floated back to that incident in Southtown. The trouble when she was kidnapped. Yuri thought about it, and truly she was grateful to her brother, and to Robert for all that they had done for her. She eased her tense shoulders and let a smile come from her face, but she was still determined. Robert returned the smile.

"So what does he do now? Ryo I mean..." Robert changed the subject...

"Oh, he's..." Then she paused and covered her gaping mouth with her hands. "AiYA! I forgot all about it!"

"What?! WHAT!?" Robert said in confusion.

"I've got to go."

"Go where?!"

"I'll tell you later!" Yuri frantically answered. "I was supposed to meet him today."

"Well you'd better wash up, he might get suspicious." Robert advised.

Yuri put down her empty glass and raced for the descending staircase. She held onto the rails but paused before she took her first step down.

...

The sparring; The gentlemanly attitude; The lemonade; The talk; The concern; and the advice.

Yuri looked back at the cross legged Robert.

…

"King… uh, Master" she was quick to correct herself as she addressed her boss, "..what EXACTLY does 'La Bijioux', mean?" Yuri asked.

{You broke your promises, no shame and regret; You touched my face, you called my name - you burned with desire - No mystery – that you rode on cupid's wings…} yet you left me in the [rain].

I always wanted this place to be [heaven], a place where you would change your life, even if just for a night… "I made the name up because it sounded French and exotic…" King smiled. "A girl friend of mine told me some years after that, that [Les Bijoux] means–The Jewels."

...

"Domo... (thanks)" Yuri said with a soft look in her face, this time the words came more sincerely. "Arigatou..."


	15. The BOYS always settle it after school

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

"I would like a place I could call my own, have a conversation on the telephone; Wake up everyday and I would be a star, I wouldn't complain about my wounded heart. Just wait till tomorrow…"

_NEW ORDER – REGRET – the best song in the world.

"No, you're WRONG, boy!" I said to him.

"Then prove it!" he replied to me.

(not much changed…)

-01.13.04

**Chapter 15: The BOYS always settle it after school**

"Are you going to run away again!?" Iori Shouted a split second before he expected to make contact. He cocked his elbow back and with a hand in a claw, slashed at Eiji's midsection. However, Iori merely went through Eiji as if he wasn't there and when he looked at his palms, all he saw was a clump of pink petals. Surprised, Iori skidded to a halt and looked back to find Eiji's rear facing him, still standing erect and calm next to the streetlight.

Iori crushed the petals in his hand and burned them, leaving purple ashes that scattered freely on the pavement. "Omoshiroi (interesting), this fight might be more than I dreamed of..."

{This is going to be harder than I thought..} Eiji mused in frustration.

…

"You executed that quite perfectly." Iori said.

"Thank you..." Eiji answered respectably, hoping that to be the end of it, but it was all in vain as Iori turned and came again, this time, from the air, his foot leading the way. Eiji's eyebrow twitched repeatedly at Iori's stubborn pride, and the ninja just slapped his brow as a sweatdrop dribbled down.

{It can't be helped I guess...} Eiji finally realized.

Eiji blocked the flying kick with his arm and stepped back, planting his left leg to dull the impact. Upon hitting the ground, palms slammed to the ground and both of Iori's legs shot out, sweeping along the earth in the hopes of clipping Eiji's legs. Eiji skipped up and started the execution for his Pegasus kick, both his legs acting like jackhammers aimed for the sitting Iori's belly. Iori rolled to the side and Eiji only kicked pavement. The Yagami hoisted himself up with his hands and immediately Eiji was on him, his hand on Iori's chest. All ten fingers curling inwards and trapping his enemy inside…

"Ki-Ko-Ho!" Eiji shouted, hoping to end the fight quickly like he once did by thrusting an invisible needle of force forward..

To Eiji's surprise, Iori moved blindingly fast. He dodged to the side, twisting his hips, jamming both his wrists under Eiji's to loosen the grip, flipped both his hands up with a motion as if he was tossing confefetti in the air and letting his upper body fall to the side. Eiji's palm flashed, and the luminous spike shot out, but hit only thin air.

"OS'EE (too slow)! I've become better, MUCH better since last we met… Eiji Kisaragiiiiii!" Iori roared in defiance.

Iori's fingers gripped down onto Eiji's wrist, gripping them, pulling them down before throwing them up, breaking the blow and finished by rolling back a few feet from his adversary. No slow to his tempo. He dashed with a short uppercut... the DEADLY FLOWER, and Eiji crossed his arms to cover his belly.

The right fist hit with a thundering blow, but the block muffled it. Still at it, Iori followed through with his left, aimed for Eiji's chin. Kisaragi tilted his head back forcefully, dodging the upper cleanly. Iori refocused his target on Eiji who was still tilted back in his dodge, and hopped up in the air. Clasping his hands in the other, Iori delivered the finale, a double ax handle. The double fisted smash hacked down, targeted surely for Eiji's nose, but the hit was stolen from Iori once again as Eiji exploded into pink sakura petals.

"But… BUT if [that] is your logic Iori Yagami," index finger pointed out callously, "the same must then apply for me...!" Eiji echoed from some unknown location.

Iori landed in a slump, his hands between his legs, just recovering from his missed smash. Iori realized his demise too late as Eiji materialized from the storm of petals behind him. A fist came swinging for Iori, with the menacing ring finger and pinkie acting like streamers for the attack. The orange sickle-like afterimage trailed the swing.

KUSANIGIRI! It was over.

…

{Damn. it. don't. just stand there...} Eiji cursed to himself.

Iori's eyes widened as he witnessed the deadly attack.

{K'soooo! (damn it)} Iori screamed inside.

A flash of crimson came as Eiji's fingers were only inches away from Iori's cheek. Billy had intervened, and his Bo (stick) twirled and slammed into Eiji's wrist in its flight path. The thunder erupted throughout Eiji's body from his wrist as he threw himself to the side from the shock. He winced from the shock and his arm twisted in an awkward position, forcing him to tumble to the side to prevent his whole arm from breaking from the impact.

"What the fuck are you doing, you old fart!?" Billy shouted, the walkman in his other hand, standing next to the school wall. "You want to kill him?!"

Eiji smiled in both relief and agitation at Billy's intervention. "Oh... So you can fight after all..." Eiji sarcastically spat at Billy.

"You son of a..." Billy came screaming, his twirling Bo (stick) leading the way. Billy sent a barrage of bludgeon stabs towards Eiji, but the Ninja easily dodged them as easily as if you and I would scratch the back of our heads, tipping his body left and right, high and low. "Give it up old man." Billy shouted.

"And YOU... You dimwitted, foreigner... (Gai Jin)" Eiji began but was cut short...

"You shut up!" Billy cut in with a full swing of his stick.

Eiji put his arm by his right temple to catch the blow and braced himself. The Bo (staff) hit squarely on his arm and Eiji skidded a few feet from the impact. {This arm will give me trouble for the next few days} Eiji cursed to himself.

"ARRRRGGHHH!" Billy screamed as he cocked back for another swing.

"...And YOU! Can't you fight without your toy." Eiji called as he swang out.

Two glints of light appeared and headed towards Billy. A ninja dagger, about a foot long embedded itself into the big red stick forcefully, breaking the flow of Billy's swing, and the other cut deep into Billy's wrist, making him lose grip of his weapon. Billy winced in pain and gripped his wrist.

"Not only are you rash, you're dumb as well." Eiji spat. He put his hands in the air and clasped one hand in the other, his fists were in a double ax handle like Iori's but Eiji's index fingers and middle fingers were exposed, like a child's 'toy gun'. Eiji swung down, the attack a more powerful version of his pinkie and ring finger slash.

"Kasunigiri!" came a quick mantra, and a vertical deathscythe came arcing down after the double handed slash. Billy looked in horror at his impending doom, and all he could do was close his eyes and hold his breath.

There was a slap, and Iori stood calm and emotionless next to Eiji, his hand, gripped firmly at Eiji's shaking wrist, stopping the downward slash just an inch from Billy's nose. There was a shadow made from his falling long bangs that made Iori menacing and deathly, but unlike the rash fool he was earlier, he was still now.

"You've changed..." Iori said.

…

"Kawatta naa, omee ga. Teme wa, hontou ni, ano toki no erasou na Kisaragi Eiji to iu yatsu na no kai? Ninjitsu wo sutetta yatsu no Eiji kai?" Iori moaned.

…

"You've changed... Are you really Eiji Kisaragi? The man who gave up Ninjitsu?" Iori moaned.

Eiji's eyes widened, and he broke from his sudden haze. Eiji snapped the lock on his wrist and put his hand over his brow to cool his temper and looked up to Iori... {..and so have you... Iori...} I am sure Eiji wanted to say at that time.

"How easily you give in to your short temper..." Iori reminded as he walked away and reached for his folder, and plucked his walkman from Billy's still awe struck state. Iori started to chuckle. "Kaori Kusanagi... You're good, Eiji, good enough to be my bodyguard, quite a shame you were broken by a woman."

"Te-me! (bastard!)" Eiji retaliated, clenching his fist a but immediately calming down, realizing he had just lost his temper again, falling to Iori's play once again. "You wouldn't understand... You're as cold as a dead fish, Iori."

"Me?" Iori started to chuckle wildly. "I am being lectured by some old goat who doesn't fight anymore because his wife died. Weak, Eiji. Such a waste of your fighting ability."

"Don't you DARE talk about Kaori like that." Eiji said more forcefully.

"Maa na.. (whatever)" Iori said to empty air as he turned around to walk away. "At least you proved that you could still fight. You belong to me now."

"You bastard, I don't have to go through this... It's for..." Eiji forced himself to slow down again and took a few seconds to calm down. "Look," He said coolly now. "You've got your reasons and so do I. I just can't understand why you still act like this... cold and uncaring. You probably don't know what it means to love another person.. to have [friends]!"

"You ask me why I am so cold? Why I do not believe in affection and love?" Iori said to Eiji in a sad stern voice. "It is because I never had any friends. Friends are only for the weak. In this life you only care for yourself... Noone else! Why direct your dreams upon someone else!?"

The clock rang three bongs and a chime. It was 3:15. The wind blew in their eyes, but they didn't even blink, and Iori turned around saving Miyuki from seeing his true self. Sparing her from seeing the hate in him, A child should never see a fight.

"TSUYOKU NARE! Be strong, my father said, and with that, he took all my friends away..." Iori picked up his leather folder and walked back towards home, leaving an unmoving Eiji and clueless Billy, with their backs to the sunset.

"Hell, did you go and fight me just to give me some lecture, you fresh brat.!?" Eiji called out.

HITOTSU

"One... You can fight..." Iori mumbled out loud, his index finger up in the air snobbishly to the lackeys behind him.

FUTATSU

"Two... To test if you really can break your vows of NON-VIOLENCE for real..." then his middle finger, then finally,

MITSU

**"And three... to prove to each other that we're not the same people we used to be..."**

The school doors opened and the children came out to go home. Ignorant of what just happened, they went their separate ways, shouting their good-byes and see-you-tomorrows. Miyuki called out to Iori Sensei chan, but he didn't want to hear.

"Jaaaaaa neeeeee! (bye) Iori Sensei CHAN!" Miyuki called. Iori stopped for a moment and stood up straight. Miyuki smiled, and Iori slouched and was on his way home again.

"Humph! Now I have to stay next to a hypocrite 'peaceful' old fart who has a temper of a horny dog." Billy scowled with his arms crossed next to Eiji.

"And YOU, are an imbecile who can't fight like a man." Eiji returned looking away snobbishly.

"I don't like you, you rotten old smelly cheese." Billy sneered.

"And I am not too fond of YOU either..."

"Oh yeah..."

The two bickered on so loud that Iori could hear it as he walked down the steep road. A sweatdrop trickled down Iori's temple and he only dug his hands deeper in his pockets and shriveled up to himself like it was the dead of winter. {Fools, surrounded by fools...}

Back outside the school, superdeformed Eiji was throwing rubbish bins at Billy who was busily swatting them aside with his stick.

"Take this...!"

"Oh yeah..."

EPILOGUE:

Iori walked down the hill and as the afternoon sun set, the shadows grew longer. Next to the telephone pole stood a figure, hidden by the dark. He stood up from his leaning position and exposed part of his face into the light.

"Iori.. Yagami..." Kyo Kusanagi whispered to himself. Kyo crumpled the piece of paper in his hand that had the name of his father's assassin.

...


	16. Aniki, Ano Baka…

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Happy Chinese New Year.

-02.08.05

**Chapter 16: Aniki, Ano Baka…**

"Nobody loves you Billy." He scolded. "You're STUPID, and you're UGLY. Only I can love someone as pathetic as you – don't forget that! Don't forget the only person who loves you."

…

{I'm gonna be late. I'm SO gonna be late.} Yuri's mind was in a frantic jumble, repeating this thought over and over in her head. She bent her legs slightly and felt for the soap dish with her right hand while at the same time blindly maneuvered her face forward and let the water beat down to get the soap off her eyes.

Yuri almost fell over when she tried to jump out of the bathtub grabbed for a towel. Each of her hands moved independently of the other. Yuri's left arm wiped her body dry and the right blow-dried her short brown hair. Once she was dry, Yuri pulled up her panties, locked the buckle of he bra in front of her and spun it around her body, she then hooked the straps over and around her shoulders, finally she rummaged through her bag. She was out of the bathroom in a flash, buttoning her tattered jeans, which were cut off just above her knees, and wore a brown leather jacket over a pink T-shirt.

Emerging from the den, she headed off to the exit, expecting the cab she called earlier to be there by now to take her to little America stadium.

"Mr. Robert-san!" She called to Robert who was sitting at the bar with a fresh new shirt. "Cover me, I'll be back as soon as Aniki (big brother)'s game is over. Tell King, okay?"

Robert's face hardly moved, his chin refused to move from its perch on his right palm. Only his eyeballs followed Yuri as she sped past him with utter emergency. He put his new pitcher of lemonade down and signaled a short wave.

"Thank you!" Yuri called. "I'll owe you one."

Robert broke from his pool of thought and swiveled on his barstool. With another flash of his palm he said "Good-bye..." and "Be back soon..."

"I think I need to get your advice when you get back." He replied.

And with that, Yuri was off to Ryo's game, hoping she wouldn't be late.

...

It was a terribly slow day for Billy, and so he decided to take some time off of the day to relax. He sincerely doubted that he was crucially needed at the kindergarten to play bodyguard to Iori Yagami against a bunch of tykes.

Billy hung his ankles up on the chair in front of him and slowly let his mind wander as best he could, in ritualistic beats he tossed kernels of greasy popcorn into his mouth, waiting for the football game to start. Today's game was USA versus Mexico, and Billy wanted to see what this 'American football' was all about, and also, what was so hot about the local USA team. Billy just needed some time alone for a change, away from Iori who he just couldn't understand, and that bossy Eiji who plain just got to his nerves. To top the whole thing off, Hopper, one of Geese's more prominent goons had met with him earlier... Billy tightened his British flag bandanna and popped another kernel of pop corn into his mouth. He wasn't going to ruin his afternoon by thinking of those stuck up pair and bother himself with the politics of his mission, this thing he was so conveniently reminded of by Hopper. Billy decided to just settle down and watch senseless violence present itself as sport. Luck was never on Billy Cane's side. The next moment, two towering black men lumbered to the seats in front of him. One had a phoenix suns jacket, shorts, and cap on; The other sported a mohawk hairdo, and had a black jean jacket on. Billy instantly noticed that the second man wore bandaged arms, the white tape came from his fists all the way to his elbow.

"Hey jackass, move them feet will ya." The first called and swatted Billy's feet of their perch on the chair.

The second man merely shrugged and grinned, crossed his hands and sat down next to his companion. Billy's cheeks puffed and his face fumed in anger and embarrassment. That was one thing Billy could never stomach – being taken too lightly.

...

Yuri tried to convince the security guard in front of her that she really WAS Sakazaki, Yuri Sakazaki, and that the letter in her hands was really from the coach of the New Mexico Diablos. Still the guard regarded her as some groupie wanting to get into the Diablos' locker room. At the edge of patience (and scared that her brother might become furious at her tardiness), Yuri waved her arms up and down so ready to grab the towering security guard in front of her and throttle him like the rubber chicken he was. Luckily, coach came to her rescue.

"Hey, Matt," the silver haired, but square shouldered coach said as he patted the security guard on the shoulder. "It's okay, that's her."

Matt nodded and quickly apologized to Yuri, {Ryo's sister}, Matt thought. he slumped humbly and shook her hand, telling her that if anyone gives her trouble, to just call and he'd take care of it. Yuri couldn't help but turn her nose up snobbishly, but the bravado turned to giggles as Matt put his index fingers together in shame, as if to mimic a 3 year old boy. It was okay, no hard feelings.

Coach was probably in his forties, but his build made you think twice. He rubbed his nose and gray mustache out of habit. Coach parted on his merry way and went off to get a drink, saying that Ryo was waiting in the Visitor's locker room, through the tunnel and across the football field.

...

Yuri walked past the home team's locker room. Her mode went into panic once again and she sped off in a light sprint to make it in time as she promised her brother. She looked to the side at the USA locker room next to her but didn't pay it any more heed. Her stride was quickly halted when she bumped into a bulky gorilla. The tower stepped back but then came lumbering over her.

The character she met was not as appealing as the last. An ugly Caucasian football player, full on with armour tucked under his blue uniform. Yuri cringed as she saw the sight and quickly tried to find some avenue of escape, she surely had no time to deal with this, not in this life or death situation. She was in the dimly lit tunnel under the seats above, the only way out was into the locker room or to double back and flee.

"Hey babe!" Brian groaned, a voice that sounded like a drunken ogre.

Brian Battler advanced slowly next to Yuri and it forced her to retreat to the tunnel wall. Brian put his hand on the wall and leaned. He flashed a smile. Yuri put up a sour look when Brian showed his filthy yellowed teeth. His breath alone could've downed an ox.

"Hey, doll, you goin' my way?" Brian slurred.

Yuri almost puked at the cheesy line. She never ever imagined, even in her most terrible nightmares that buffoons like these still existed. Yuri just gave an upset look.

"Hey dickbrain..." She spat. "I've got no more time for this."

Battler couldn't imagine how his 'macho charm' could falter, so he tried a more direct approach.

Brian put his left hand on Yuri's shoulder and stroked his right on Yuri's hip.

"Hey, the locker room's that'a way." Brian said, pointing towards the home team's den.

Yuri's skin crawled at his touch. She would rather a hoard of greasy tentacles reach out for her, and she wondered how much of this she would have to endure in her unlucky life. Instinctively, Yuri put up her stance, and instead of the conventional slap, she cocked her fist. Brian's eyes widened in surprise and smiled obnoxiously. The gorilla was obviously amused at the petty display and let out a hoarse brutish laugh. Yuri's disphragm tightened in disgust – she grit her teeth along with her fist.

He closed his eyes and slipped his index finger under the grille of his football helmet, poking his cheek. "Cuum on, cuum on..." He mocked obnoxiously. "Punch widdle; poor widdle me, raaayyt heeer..."

Yuri fumed and tightened her fist apprehensively. It was the start of her day and she was already picking fights. Is this how it was going to be? Why must wonderful and cute girls like her have to drudge through life meeting people like this?! Yuri's shoulders became uneasy and she didn't know what to do next. She looked up once again at Battler's grinning face, and in an instant it somehow metamorphosed into a familiar visage. Robert's lechearous face replaced Brian's, complete with his icky drool dribbling down the side of his mouth.

Apprehension was quickly replaced by familiar instinct – Yuri lost that feeling before and cocked her fist back.

"WHHUUURRYYAAA!" came a thundering bellow.

A fist came thrashing in like a juggernaught, the taunt knuckles obliterated the side of Brian Battler's Helmet.

WELCOME TO RONALD MCDONALD LAND!

ALL FOR THE LOW PRICE OF 39.99!

SUCH A SMOOTH SHAVE FIT FOR THE MANLY MAN!

I'M A TOYS R' US KID!

A rush of images went whizzing across Battler's puny brain. All the commercials he had seen in the last 24 hours flashed past his eyes…

…little bits of his Kevlar helmet splintered and embedded themselves into the side of Brian's face – and in the split instant the knuckles shook, the pieces erupted into a cloud of shrapnel. The obnoxious orangutan went tumbling to the end of the tunnel head over ass, ending in a skid. His head was planted into the ground and his ass perked up in the air.

Yuri's eyes popped out in surprise, and she slowly let her still cocked fist drop. She looked the other way, towards the opening of the tunnel, to the field. The sunlight silhouetted the ominous figure who stood next to her. It took her a few moments to get a good look as the light shifted.

"Oniichan! (big brother)" Yuri cheered.

True enough, it was her brother, Ryo Sakazaki. His face was flushed red in anger, and the black stripes under his eyes made him more menacing. Yuri turned a concerned look at her brother's hand which was still in a tight fist, and trembling with tension. His knuckles were bleeding terribly, so Yuri fumbled for her handkerchief. The wound was bad, but it was nothing compared to Brian's shattered helmet, it's side wide open. If that was his skull, he'd have been a goner for sure.

"You fucking pig!" Ryo growled. "If you so much as lay a hand, no, A FINGER on my sister again, I swear, I'll KILL YOU!" Ryo's voice unstable and booming.

The veins on Ryo's temples pumped savagely, and it took five minutes or more, and all of Yuri's strength and diplomacy to convince Ryo to turn around and lead him back to the Eagles' locker room.

Yuri continued to press all of her body weight on Ryo's back to keep him moving forward and away from Brian. After a few moments her brother walked on his own and hunched away. Yuri looked over her shoulder at the still unmoving Brian. Her cheeks puffed in her frustrated pout, and as retribution she sped back down the tunnel, swiveling her L bent arms up and down like as a wind up toy would and screeched to a halt just behind the crumpled Caucasian who was trapped helplessly in an awkward pose.

"Take dis!" Yuri proclaimed and jabbed her stubby jackhammer feet into Battler's rear end. "and DAT! AND DAT!" Punt punt punt! Yuri continued her annoyed jabbing for a few minutes, occasionally shifting her super deformed body to the side then around.

...

The football game had hardly begun, but the two black men in front of Billy were already shouting, cursing and making obnoxious remarks and sounds. The mohawked boxer was yelling and booing while the basketball player, with a ball in hand, was jumping up and down like a crazed frog. The two effectively ruined Billy's view. Billy, who was trying to sit calmly behind them. Billy's eyebrows twitched erratically. He tried to keep calm 'lest his blood pressure soar through his skull. Billy kept his arms crossed, but couldn't help but bang his crossed legs as he slung them once again onto the seats in front of him. The two black men, Lucky Glauber and Heavy D., immediately stopped their exhibition and grimlyy turned around to face the enraged Billy with upturned puckered lips. Billy couldn't hide his furious visage.

Despite that, Billy kept silent, not wanting to get into any more trouble.

"Hey man, wuss your fickin' problem?!" Lucky exclaimed, thrashing a fist out, with the thumb, index and pinkey fingers poking out.

"Yeah, fool!" Heavy D., the boxer was quick to follow, an evil eye gleaming.

…

"What did you just say, little girl." The old man hissed at the child.

…

Billy had already gotten himself into trouble, and before his mind could stop himself, he had already followed suit. On instinct, Billy darted to a stand. His eyebrows met and he tried to end the whole skirmish with a menacing stare. It wasn't that easy. The boxer matched the look. The crowd was smarter, audience within a 10 seat radius decided to "relocate for a better view".

"So, you bad eh?" The boxer teased. "You a bad mother now eh?"

Heavy D. started poking Billy in the shoulder, teasing him incessantly, all the while hurtling racial slurs his way.

Billy didn't realize it but his teeth had started to chatter, not from fear, but from anger.

…

The slap came too fast for the boy, but he covered his face anyways even after the hit had connected and dropped him to the dirty carpet. "Ugly girls like you shouldn't TALK. UNDERSTAND!?"

…

Billy's shoulders shook, not from the pokes, but from the anger boiling in him. his eyes bore into the boxer, and the foolish Heavy D. only found pleasure taunting the London Boy who refused to make a move. He put on the pressure, the pokes turning into slaps with his open bandaged palms.

Flashes; Shots; Rich, filthy pedophiles poking him like a dog and slapping him on the cheeks and shoulders. The younger Billy only whimpered, like a faked orgasm, pleasing the bloated pervert.

…

"Only little girls cry, right. Do you want to be a little girl?"

Billy drove his elbows into the matress and bit into his lower lip – gripped his fingers deep into the damp, filthy sheets. He bit down and said nothing. He wanted to scream he wanted to say something, anything but his shivering body didn't want to form words.

…

"Sit down, fool!" The boxer exclaimed, and with one last forceful heave with both palms, Billy sailed back to his seat.

…

The little boy sniffled. Is this the way it's going to be? He thought… is there only pain for ugly dumb people like me? Why don't I just die. Why don't I just DIE NOW?! I WANT TO DIE NOW!

There is nothing left for me here… HELP ME! I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS WAY.

…

A horrible vision revealed itself in the young boy's mind. The tears from his crumpled eyes made the disgusting makeup run down his ckeeks. It was a haze of red as he saw numerous lecherous faces push him face first onto the filthy mattress. A younger Billy felt hands pushing him down, mushing his face into the cushion, and finally…

…

…with one last forceful heave with both palms, Billy sailed back to his seat.

…

A familiar clink and pants came free… There was only suffering. WHY WON'T I JUST DIE?

…

"No. YOU DIE!" Billy roared, the bulged arteries that snaked around his neck ready to explode… like a viper, reached for his, holster which was just above his butt. He unbuttoned it and felt for his Bo (Staff). The smooth pole felt good to the touch.. reassuring to Billy.

Heavy D.'s demeanour immediately changed – the radiating red aura that towered over Billy had shifted the balance and the two aggressors instantly realized that they were like cockroaches to the burning red dragon. Billy swerved his left hip down and swung his Bo (staff) downwards towards the frozen D. Heavy D. staggered back up until the top of the seats in front of him cut into the back of his knees, preventing him from going any further.

Faster than a mousetrap, a hand gripped his wrist. Billy spun around to see Eiji sitting behind him, holding fast onto his wrist. Eiji was wearing a white hockey mask, but the 'rooster' spikes of hair on his head was still sticking out. Making his head look like a white pineapple.

"No, Billy." Eiji said firmly, his eyes projected an imposing stare.

{Eiji...} Billy mind snarled. Eiji's relaxed hand gripped onto the boy's wrist and kept it there, trebling with ravaging power, wanting to be set free. Billy began to open his mouth but realized that no words escaped his lips. His lungs refused to move – he had stopped breathing. It was only his cheeks that willed little gasps of air into his body, but the muscles around his lungs refused to take it in. His arms were taught and unmoving, his fingers gripped tightly onto his weapon, his digits didn't move and were frozen in place. He didn't know it yet, but he was in some form of shock.

"Uh.. ughk.." Billy gurgled. It was as if he was dropping into the ocean unable to move.

Eiji returned with a scowl and forced Billy's frozen hand downwards. In the next motion his middle finger embedded itself deep into the nape of Billy's neck, just in the slight crevice where Billy's right shoulder blade met the base of his neck.

The red staff dropped to the carpeted ground and little boy Billy's hands, now suddenly free went up to his chest. His shoulders relaxed and he let his gaze drift skywards, into the calming blue sky. He couldn't think of anything. Driving himself up from the dark red ocean he gasped for breath.

His lungs exhaled.

…

A cough then two… His breathiing began to normalize. I'm alive.

…

"Let it go, it's not worth it." Eji replaced the hold on Billy's wrist that tensed again before the staff could fall from his grip.

"Coward…" Billy came back with heaved breaths when his pupils finally dilated normally. Billy, Eiji didn't see him twirl his hand, and reverse the hold. Now Billy was gripping Eiji's wrist. Billy squeezed hard and pulled the ninja close. "If you want to run away, FINE! Just stay out of my way!"

Eiji's eyes turned from a glare to a look of awe. "You're... Hurting me..." Eiji said calmly.

"Hey, faggot!" Heavy D. stepped in. "You look at m..."

He couldn't finish his sentence. In a fit of rage, Billy gripped his staff with his right hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the three piece stick was stiff and whole. Billy sent his elbow up and cocked back in a hacking stance. Without any more thought, he sent the Bo (staff) hurtling down like a sledgehammer into Heavy D.'s collar bone. The fool winced in pain and his incoming insults slurred as he felt half of his body fall numb. Still he gargled to speak...

"SHUT UP!" Billy roared as he twisted his body like a corkscrew, as far as it would go. He swang his weapon like a baseball bat, and his sheer fury was reflected in the awkward and tense curves and position of his mouth and lips. Frowning, puckered, and gritting all at once.

Billy's weapon hit the side of the boxer's jaw, twisting his face in a deformed stare. Billy's victim flew headlong into a garbage can not so far away. Heavy D. was foaming and in dreamland before he even hit the concrete.

"Hey man, it's cool..." The ball player, Lucky, frantically stuttered. "It was just a joke... I got no weapons, man, it 'aint fair..."

Billy said nothing and this was his blunt response as he threw his staff straight as a spear to Lucky's right wrist, making him lose grip of the basketball. Lucky broke into a cold sweat, evidently losing his ace in the hole.

"B...Brian'll get you." Lucky stammered.

...

As if on cue, Brian Battler, superstar of the USA jaguars went flying into the air. The spectators gazed in awe at the ogre who was floating 10 feet in the air with his uniform torn, showing a shattered shoulder pad. Below him was Ryo Sakazaki's fist; and down went Battler like a 'falling star' should. At the bench, the coach for the Mex Diablos bit his cap and threw it to his feet in frustration. Surely there was going to be some sort of penalty for this, but it was quite a sight to see Ryo Sakazaki walk slowly towards the end zone, with the rest of the Eagles steering clear from the raging bull. It was a ridiculous touchdown.

"Your... Your sister..." the battered Brian convulsed on the ground, trying to remember the insult he foolishly began to fling at Ryo Sakazaki.

...

The terrified Lucky stood unmoving as the overalled madman approached him. Billy calmly put his palm on Lucky's chin and squeezed his cheeks together, making the ball player pucker up before Billy sent a devastating right hook crash. Before Lucky could topple over, Billy caught his jacket and punched his abdomen. Lucky's eyes almost popped out from their sockets. Billy collared him with both hands and threw Lucky over his shoulders, towards Eiji's seat. As expected, Eiji was already in the next seat, avoiding the throw, anticipating it before Billy even lay hands on Lucky's collar. Eiji sat cross legged and stuck one of those thin Chinese pipes into one of the holes of his hockey mask. Occasionally, puffs of smoke exited through the other holes drifting skyward in little gray rings. Eiji stared disappointedly at Billy; and Billy, not wanting to lose any more sanity, walked off.

"Idiot..." Eiji puffed.

"At least I don't settle my problems by running away, old man."

EPILOGUE:

"NO! We've been this before!" Ryo shouted at Yuri. " You are not, I repeat, NOT, going to join the King of Fighters." With that, Ryo threw his helmet to the floor and went into the locker room.

Yuri knelt on her knees and cried, hiding her face in her hands.

...


	17. The Pathetic Faith of Lovers

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

HELPLESS;

Everyday, we look for the same answer.

Tomorrow, what will fate have in store.

Some day, destiny will answer ambition.

Today – but I am afraid to walk any more.

What good deed did you do today to contribute to the world?

No excuses, did your actions enrich your own life?

I don't believe in "There was nothing I could do."

Because, we are ALL free. Free to make choices…

…and these choices influence our constantly changing future.

"We cannot walk backwards to the future."

-Chinese fortune cookie.

-02.08.05

**Chapter 17: The Pathetic Faith of Lovers**

A middle aged man swung his shoulders to the left then to the right – long sweeping motions parting the chaos in front of him and arranged the pink cherry blossom petals neatly to one side.

It was another afternoon. Another afternoon. He would sweep the front of his yard diligently, despite the fact that the cold wind would clutter the pathway once again. It didn't matter though. This was his routine. He would sleep, he would clean his house, water his small vegetable garden, then make dinner. Tomorrow he would bring those vegetables to the nearby town and trade it for medicine, meat or fresh fish.

Another day. **JUST another day.**

He wondered, just out of sport and amusement, what other men just like him. Men of his age would be doing now. In the bustling towns, amidst the lights and glamour. What would they do as they smiled – what greatness made them smile so brightly. He had no answer but smiled. It was true. [If a man can smile so fearlessly, then surely…]

He had no answer to his question. The question he asked himself this and every everyday.

Everyday when the warm rays of the sun awoke him from his frigid slumber and when the same frigid cold would bade him to sleep. There is nothing left for me, but these [days]. With sincere pause he was content. He was content with his everyday, and maybe that was okay.

He wore a white kimono decorated with navy blue flowers covered his eyes from the sunlight as he looked up from his chore. He held a bamboo broom in hand and was busily sweeping the leaves from the front yard of his simple house in the back forest, away from the worries of the busy streets of that town.

"Anata... (Darling)" came a faint voice from behind. He turned around and saw a lady running over with her arms open. A smile cracked the man's face but slowly the image disappeared, and he was left looking at his open door. A mirage...

Without warning, a flock of birds came out from the treetops. The man held his sweeps, gripped the bamboo shaft of his broom firmly in one hand and waited, listened to the trees and the wind.

With their cover blown, three ninjas exposed themselves from the high branches. One wearing a black uniform came down first, and the other two, wearing dark green and brown fatigues followed. Before the last two could even touch the ground the lead sped off to attack. The steel caught the light and flew towards the gardener. The man tightened his grip on the broom and used it as a vertical block, and when the blade was half way into the bamboo he twisted it, making the hollow bamboo clip down, preventing the blade to cut all the way through. The first ninja was stunned and with his momentum broken, the gardener had a few seconds of confusion to his advantage.

"K'sama... (damn you) Kisaragi!" The black ninja spat, but before he could say any more, Kisaragi was up and moving. He still had the blade lodged in the bamboo with his left hand, so he pushed it wide and the blade followed, leaving his enemy open. Kisaragi swerved his left foot around the broom and kicked mid height, the blow hit the ninja's gut and forcefully dropped him to squat. Kisaragi put the same left foot on his opponent's knees and like a staircase, stepped up and kicked the man's throat with his right heel. With that, the first ninja was driven backwards, immobilized and gasping for breath.

Without even a breather for Kisaragi, the two remaining ninja descended. The one on the right hacked his sword down. Kisaragi, much too perceptive switched hands, and now the broom was in his right. He sidestepped to the opposite direction, raised his elbow up and put the broom perpendicular to the ground, next to his shoulder. As Kisaragi had planned, the katana (sword) missed his head and the side of the blade slid down the bamboo like a train on a bamboo rail.

As he had done a dozen times before, Kisaragi bent the broom in an arc and the blade skidded down quick and harmlessly to the ground. Before the ninja could take his eyes off the tip of his blade that embedded itself into the earth Eiji switched hands again, his left was already holding the broom and he let his right hand free in a quick jab. The center joint of Eiji's middle finger stuck out from his fist and jammed itself into the ninja's temple. Instantaneously, his enemy's eyes rolled back into his skull leaving only white orbs.

"Owari da! (It's over)" came a voice from the side.

The last ninja came running with a stab. Eiji just looked on. The ninja's eyebrows met in glee, but his joy was stolen at the last moment. The assassin tensed his grip for the slash and measured the distance between himself and his target. It was just a meter or two away, and the ninja cocked the sword back, but to his surprise Eiji suddenly appeared in front of him, just a foot away.

"Ba..bakana... (impossible)" The ninja mumbled.

With one swing, Eiji slapped the ninja, sending him to the ground.

"What do you want Yagami..." Eiji mumbled to the awe-struck Yagami ninja.

A new opponent dropped from the treetops and landed in a kneeling position. A female ninja, Eiji noted. She took off her dark purple mask and looked up at Eiji. Eiji, had his hands up when the air was disturbed, but slowly put down his guard.

"Kaori?" Eiji said...

"Yamashita. A captain for the Yagami ninjas." She said. "Yagami-sama sent me to deliver a message."

We want to live forever – we had to stay together… A cold breeze drifted through the two, making the pink petals by his feet shift to the side.

"You are indeed Eiji Kisaragi," she started. "Downed three of my best men, yet you didn't kill them."

Eiji's eyes didn't break from her gaze. He held his place, looked her up and down.

"I was told it might catch your attention." Yamashita answered as she put her hands behind her neck and threw up her hair. She tossed a bundle of wrappings, which Eiji caught without a thought.

Eiji let his eyes drop onto the neatly bundled package in his hand. He untied the string and undid the cloth. Inside was an arrow cut in half. The arrow was in two pieces, as if someone had taken a blade and starting from the arrowhead tip and cut through the very center of the shaft. "Yagami has come for your services."

"Eh?" Eiji grimaced, and stared menacingly.

"You do remember the promise you made that night." Yamashita came back unfazed. "In exchange for your comrades' bodies. I was there."

Eiji turned around and looked down at his feet. "I do not kill anymore." Eiji said bluntly. "It was not me who was talking."

"You know it was you innermost desire, Kisaragi. What your body and mind refuses to accept, your heart..."

"You know nothing."

"You have no say in the matter, Eiji Kisaragi." Yamashita said coldly. "But do not worry, it not an assassination Yagami-sama requires... A bodyguard..."

"A WHAT?!" Eiji spat back, taking it as an insult.

"No sarcasm..." Yamashita followed closing her eyes as she hunched back at ease. "Yagami is aware of your new life... A farmer?" She smiled widely. "Still, your skill cannot be overlooked."

Eiji tensed his fists and faced her again. "Who?" he said in a deep tone.

"You know of him... Iori Yagami." Yamashita answered.

Eiji's grim visage cracked - he started to snicker, then chuckle, and finally Eiji fell into a fit of laughter. A laughter of caused by both humour and irony. "Yagami Iori..?" Eiji laughed. "I don't think my services is needed for a killer like that." Eiji spat back quite frankly.

"The young master is scheduled to join the King of Fighters Tournament a few years from now. Yagami-sama merely wants you to escort him since he is not familiar of the world outside the Yagami palace walls." She explained.

"I am sorry, but don't you think my abilities would just be wasted baby-sitting a spoiled brat like that?" Eiji came sarcastically. "Doesn't Yagami have a better favour to ask of me?"

Yamashita smiled and chuckled to herself, all the while keeping her eyes closed and her arms crossed. Eiji didn't like that look. It was a visage that said she knew something he didn't, that she had some hidden hand to play. "Yagami-sama expected as much, so he told me to tell you this... Eiji Kisaragi..." She began,

…

To sacrifice the pathway to the future - silence as he willfully allowed the world to stop.

Interjecting ridiculous thoughts in our minds, we just wish that the future would guide us there. When all we wanted; was you close to me… I want you close to me.

Eiji looked at Kaori, and tomorrow didn't matter to him. She tipped her head low and refused to make eye contact, but she couldn't hide the bright smile on her face.

Oh what a wonderful woman you are. Eiji smiled as he put his hands on her shoulders. She gingerly let her gaze rise to meet his. The most wonderful woman in the world.

"I want you to be close to me. Tomorrow doesn't matter."

…

"Yagami-sama expected as much, so he told me to tell you THIS... Eiji Kisaragi..." She began, "You are familiar with Rugal Bernstein...?"

Eiji's laughter instantly ceased and he stared intently at the female ninja as the word R-u-g-a-l formed on her lips. She smiled when she got his attention.

"He is the sponsor of the King of Fighters Tournament... If you and Iori-sama won the KOF 95, then you would be able to call a meeting with him… surely..." She said with a poison tipped tongue.

"KAORI IS DEAD." Eiji shouted, throwing his broom down, and staring angrily at the lady tempting him.

"Oh? Maybe I have said too much already? Don't you want her? For Kaori Kusanagi to live again?"

"Kono ama! (you bitch)" Eiji cursed. "She's dead. They killed her a long time ago. These rumours can't be true!"

"True, Yoshiki Kusanagi did kill his own daughter because of her defiance, but it is still your choice. Can you bring yourself to believe that the rumours are false? I think I know your answer already."

"Sore dewa, Kisaragi-san (then, farewell, Kisaragi-san)" Yamashita called as she disappeared in a flash, along with the rest of her soldiers.

...

Eiji went into his hut and knelt in front of an iron chest, covered all over by cobwebs and dust. With a few firm sweeps of his sleeve, Eiji dusted it until he could once again see the lack luster, once golden, now plain brass hinges and edges, as well as the brunt red of the rosewood.

"So it has come down to this." Eiji whispered to himself.

Eiji pulled out his metal pipe from his robe and wedged it between the padlock and the iron clasp. The rusted lock broke free instantly and the corroded metal crumbled as it hit the ground. {Suman... (forgive me) Masa, Mikaido.} Eiji said in deep thought. The hinges creaked with a hollow eerie echo as they twisted, and Eiji dug into the chest that had not been opened in fourteen years. Inside was Eiji's old ninja uniform, as well as Mikaido's mask which was cut to show his hair, and Masa's katana (sword).

"Sashiburida na... O-tomo yo... (Long time no see, my friends)." Eiji smiled. The sword had a long piece of cloth wrapped around the sheath and hilt area, just by the finger guard, which prevented the sword from coming unsheathed. At the end was a lump of red wax, still whole and crimson after so many years. Eiji held the blade in front of him, his right hand on the hilt and his left on the sheath. With one tug, the cloth shred to stringy tatters and the sword came free. The sunlight from the window seeped into the dark room, and the blade caught the light, amplifying it, and with a simple twist of Eiji's wrist, the light was gone, as if the blade had eaten it.

[Put your hand, in my hand. I will show you the way.]

Eiji took a blanket and put as much of his clothes in a bundle, as well as any other things he needed for his journey. When all was done and packed, he took out the sword one last time.

Eiji was in the dark room, and a candle stood on top of a tall iron rod. The room was dark save for the candlelight, and the only other thing in it was a low table with a picture of Eiji's deceased wife, Kaori. With his thumb, Eiji pushed the finger guard of the sword an inch and like the wind, the blade flew - before you knew it, it was back in the sheath. After a few seconds, the candle slid a bit from the precise cut in between it. The flame still flickered and Eiji smiled at Mikaido who was not with him anymore.

"Dewa, (good-bye) Kaori-chan." Eiji cried bowing halfway to the picture.

"I hope to see you again, if I cannot bring you back to this world, I will join you in the next."

…and with that, Eiji stepped out of the house. He opened three tins of gasoline and doused the house all over. In one toss, a torch came twirling into the house and set it aflame. Eiji looked at the picture one last time and made his way into the city.

The wooden frame caught fire almost immediately and quite slowly but surely, the hungry fires devoured Kaori's picture bit by bit. Eiji had broken his vow, all for his love, and if he failed, there would be no more reason to continue living. He had lost everything, his pride, his honour, all for love.

So now all he can do is hope, for the future, and maybe his desire can lead him back to happiness again.

"Kaori..."

...


	18. No Need For Asking, No Need For Thinking

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

If time is willing – then a BEAST can walk forever;

Because through [defiance], can man find [purpose];

Only in this, he can find a hope – the promise of [peace]

…and as wretched as this frigid heart is.

It can beat, only for you…

-05.18.05

**Chapter 18: No Need For Asking, No Need For Thinking**

Jazz music filtered through La Bijoux; acting as theme song, and fulfilling the promise to the numerous patrons- an escape from their normal lives. The paperwork and deadlines can wait for another time. As usual, part owner of the club, Duck King, and his now worn out and half drunk companion, Todo (wondering where in the world Heavy D is... in the ICU), were having the time of their lives to the left of the bar.

It wasn't that busy a night, luckily it was Thursday, luckily for Yuri. King didn't feel any extra work for La Bijoux tonight so she let the issue with Yuri slide. Robert, who was busy acting as bodyguard, and Maitre'D to fill in for Yuri assured King that Yuri just went to see her brother and would be back any moment.

A familiar face stepped into the club.

"DOHSHTA!? (How's it going?)" came a yelp from cheerful Joe Higashi, who was dressed in a collared shirt, Khaki pants, and a sweater slung over his shoulders. Of course, still sporting that spikey hairdo.

Robert sent a waving hand and jogged up to meet the customers. When he arrived to shake Higashi's hand, he also noticed two more figures behind. Mai Shiranui was literally dragging Andy Bogard into the club, and it was quite a picture to see Andy's dumbfounded, yet slightly irritated face as a cute Mai cradled his arm in hers. Robert let out a greeting to the lovely couple. Mai closed her eyes, smiled widely and wiggled her fingers.

"So when's the engagement?" Robert joked.

Andy, on the other hand, wiped his brow with his handkerchief and let out a forced smile. Andy was about to return the greeting but Mai pulled him eagerly to a table, insisting on one close to the jazz band.

Joe looked around, and over Robert's shoulder.

"Yuri-chan isn't here?" Joe asked.

"No, she'll be a bit late." Robert replied while he wiggled his hands under a large napkin like Maitre'Ds should.

"Sooh ne... (I see...)... King san wa?"

"Oh, she's behind the bar." Robert answered as he led Joe Higashi to the bar, as instructed many times by Mai. (To leave Andy and her alone for as long and as much as possible.)

Robert called one of the free waitresses to give Joe a small glass of iced water and apologized, as he had to get back to work. King made through her way and walked over to Joe from behind the bar, diligently wiping a champagne glass with her apron.

"Busy as always, Eh, King-san?" Joe began.

"Maa ne... (so - so)" King answered in a smile. "It's always like this you know.. So, what can I get you?"

"Anything you think is good..."

"I don't know..." King said tentatively. "Feeling like coffee?"

"Have one with me, you look tired," Joe laughed.

King went to the shelves behind her and got some dark bottles. She prepared two tall glasses filled with ice and mixed the cold coffee, liquor and topped it off with Irish Creme.

"I guess you'd be busy tomorrow..." Joe mumbled. "Why don't you come over to the diner this Saturday. Maybe before you open."

King sipped her drink and let two beers slide down the bar to keep the waiting customers satisfied. At the other end sat Makoto Udeshii and Abigail, with then done and nursing their drinks, King could take a break.

"Well..." Joe prodded.

"I don't know..." King answered slowly and indecisively.

"Come on, you've never been to my place, and here I am sitting at your bar almost every night."

"BAKA! (idiot)" King said jokingly. "You're just playing chaperone to those two lovebirds." King motioned with her eyes to Mai and Andy.

Andy was still on his first glass of champagne, while Mai had already downed three of some pinkish orange concoction. Andy seemed very worried, both at the number of drinks Mai can keep from her head and the fact that Mai was still cradling his arm, coming closer to him, her hands often massaging his shoulders.

"You'd better keep an eye on Andy." King teased.

"No, It's Mai I have to keep off Andy when we're done here." Joe replied.

It was only so far that she could maintain her stoic, empty poke face. King laughed so hard that she had to put her drink down and covered her face with her apron.

"That's it," Joe returned to the subject. "Saturday evening, I'll cook for you."

With that, Joe tapped his glass to King's and drank it down. King just grinned and drank her's too.

Yuri came into the bar already in her uniform. She breathed a low sigh as she saw no trace of anger in King's face as she entertained Joe. She saw too that Robert was hard at work filling in for her, so she sped off to relieve Robert. She was also glad that King was out of her seemingly depressed slump as of the days past.

...

Robert saw Yuri come in and a wave of relief swept through him. He greeted Yuri and looked King's way and told her that Yuri had arrived. King just nodded and excused herself from Joe to get back to work.

Yuri noticed something strange then, because Robert had been acting funny lately; too nice, Yuri noted. Now, away from a customer, King put up a depressed look, blankly staring at the champagne glass she was repeatedly wiping. Robert was trying to get some chit chat started with King, two tables away, but all he received were nods. King was visibly ignoring Robert. It was probably something Robert had done, what could that vile fiend've done this time. It was out of the norm though. The only time King would shut herself from Robert or sometimes Yuri was if she was angry at something, it didn't have to be them in particular, or if she ignored Robert blankly when she was drunk. There were no indications of either, there was neither the angry look or the joking indifferent visage. King was just gazing into the champagne glass in deep thought, probably a heavy cloud rested above her head.

Yuri couldn't begin to guess. She walked over to King casually with a thought on her mind as well. The letter addressed to King by her father she 'accidentally' half read probably held some clue.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Came a question with a double meaning; Yuri tried to piece the puzzle in her head mentally.

It took King a few moments to look up and realize that Yuri was addressing her.

"Uh, tell Robert you can take over his tables." King answered, and with that, ended any chance of a conversation. King went back to the champagne glass. Just like a child caught in one of her fathers formal dinners, bored and feeling out of place, she tried to plant her thoughts in the seemingly mindless thing she was doing. Whatever she was thinking of those past few days, she was trying to keep from her mind by keeping herself busy. Like a child caught in a formal dinner, out of place. The child had to keep herself occupied, fiddling with napkins, or playing with toothpicks, for it was better than staring blankly, outward, looking stupid, trying to comprehend ideas in an environment you couldn't understand and felt an outcast to.

Yuri shifted her gaze to Robert who had run out of things to say. He too was probably feeling shunned by the revolving world. He smiled, just like the kid could do when he couldn't answer any more questions or run out of 'grown up' things to say. Yuri could see through the smile because Robert's eyes couldn't hide it. An invisible barrier started to develop between the two. More than once since Yuri came in that night, did she think, or even, suspect, that Robert, knew more than she did, but just wasn't sure.

...

{There was no need for asking; No more need for further thinking} The girl thought to herself as her father played the businessman. The poor girl felt no higher than an accessory as she folded animals from her cloth napkin. She couldn't understand, and didn't know what else to do.

Just no need for asking; No need for thinking.

...

It was closing time once again, but unlike what the trio did, this time for the past week, King asked that she be left alone at the bar during closing. The familiar champagne glass was now filled with the yellowish fizz. What transpired in her mind was hers alone to keep. It would all be over by the end of the week. A week, or the end of dinner, it was the same.

It was okay, the father replied to his daughter. You just sit and we'll go home after I'm done with the dinner meeting.

King watched the many bubbles float up and pop. No answers here.

There were no answers- and she wondered what it would be like tomorrow, would she just continue to stare at those bubbles as they floated up with fervour but in the end would disappear…

…

"Meet me at the den."

...

"Meet me at the den," Yuri remembered Robert say when closing time neared. "I need to ask you something."

There were no lights, a customary thing during closing, it just didn't pass Yuri's mind to turn them on. Besides, it ruined the view. She was gazing at the crescent moon, and the studded night sky. Yuri had her hands in the other behind her back casually, the black leather couch was between her and the pale window. Maybe she was falling into the same state as King, she thought. Yuri had numerous things she was juggling in her mind. Her relationship with King and Robert had been shaky recently, almost unpredictable, but tonight, it clearly hinted that it would turn for the worst, for little words were exchanged between them. That was bad enough, she even had to deal with her brother and father who were blatantly against her desire to join the King of Fighters; (and not to mention the oafs like Brian Battler, filthy, unattractive, and without a clue.) For a moment, Math, Science and English held no importance. When the bar closed, the lights were shut, and the music ceased, the realties began to seep back in. There was a bluish light outside, from the neon La Bijoux sign. It flickered and died, no doubt Robert was closing and was on his way. When the sign flashed no more, it was like a 'closed' placard at the gates of Shang-rila. The world of escape had to end for another night. It didn't last forever.

For the first time, Yuri questioned the reason behind her continued stay in La Bijoux. It wasn't for the money, not for the show, even a secretarial job would present more prestige than being a waitress - a Maitre'D. It was for the ambiance La Bijoux furnished, moreover, the security, peace of mind, and friendship Robert and King provided. Now that this stood on shaky ground, her confidence faltering and her calm nature so easily stolen when closing came, Yuri wondered if she wanted to continue working here.

Robert came into the dark room, and Yuri noticed, that he was silent, didn't even say any words of greeting. He put his back up and closed the door behind him. She noticed as well when Robert subtlely locked the door.

{What'd you lock the door for!?} Yuri's mind blurted out, but she kept silent, calm, her heart telling her that there was no need to argue.

Yuri stood unmoving and just pushed her back as far back as possible until the leather couch kept her from going any further. Robert still kept silent and came closer. When Robert was only a foot away from Yuri, she panicked a bit and stepped back. The couch hit the back of her knees, making them bend. Yuri fell sitting on the couch and Robert dove limply, face first onto Yuri's collar. Instinctively, Yuri put her hands on Robert's shoulders which were on top of her now.

Yuri tried to maintain a degree of control: over her frantic mind, over the awkward situation. She told herself not to jump to any conclusions, but it was hard to do with all of Robert Garcia on her. She just gave in and trusted Robert. Yuri lifted her hands from Garcia's shoulders and wrapped them around his neck and hugged him.

{Itsumademo...Whatever happens will be}

Robert made no further, and just rested his forehead on Yuri's shoulder.

"I'm tired... tired of all of this..." he mumbled. "I need to ask you something..."

…

On earlier times, she would have never allowed Robert to get within eight feet from her, and now, her arms were wrapped comfortably around the back of his neck. Around the back of his cool, yet unmoving neck, as if she had waited an eternity for that moment- this moment… because women wait for that moment… just a moment- and what do weak [men] wait for?

…

"I'm tired... tired of all of this..." he mumbled. "I need to ask you something..."

The pieces of the puzzle weren't getting any clearer, but they talked anyway, whispered softly in the intoxicating darkness. Only the walls hear, they listen intently.

"Can you cover for me... tomorrow... and for King too?" Robert mumbled.

Yuri closed her eyes and smiled at her naiveness, on earlier occasions she would never even let Robert get within four, no, eight feet from her, and now, her arms were wrapped comfortably around the back of his warm yet resilient neck. {So, you're finally taking King out on a date, eh?} Yuri chuckled in congratulations inside.

**Kore ga, shoujo to shonen no kankei – this is the relationship between a BOY and a GIRL.**

She didn't want to get it go – if she let go, then she would plummet downwards to a world she never experienced before. "I don't know what to do, because I…"

My HEARTBEAT won't stop. As my favourite music plays on the radio.

On earlier times, she would never let Robert get within eight feet from her, and now, her arms were wrapped comfortably around his neck. Robert was not the same Robert Garcia she knew, but something inside Yuri made her worry. Robert had changed, and most probably because of an event that happened, or WILL happen. Yuri, too, knew that she had changed because of the altered environment. For some reason, she held tight, and didn't want to let go, fearing that the changes in them would change everything else around them. A small part of her didn't want Robert to go with King. She wanted everything to be the same as before, with the lecherous Robert, King's wishy washy likeness, and Yuri's own bossy, untrusting attitude.

Because… this was the greatest lie God trust upon his children. That we were destined to…

There's no need for asking; no further need for thinking.

...'lest you be dragged into a world of confusion you can never return from... soon, the business dinner will be over.


	19. Asian Wonder

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

It is perfectly alright to question [G_O_D],

Ask him how he can stand idle,

And simply watch, as a noble man suffers…

…and the answer you hear in your head –

will determine your destiny…

…for all eternity

-03.28.06

**Chapter 19: Asian Wonder**

"Hello, this is Jouta, I am not here right now, but if you leave your name , number and a brief message after the beep, I will try to get to you. Bye Bye."

-BEEP-

...

When it's too silent you can't help but beg for something, for anything to happen. It was this way throughout the coliseum; Blinded by the darkness, the crowd isolated themselves with their individual murmurs which was eaten by the evening air. In an instant, a monotonous humming sound could be heard. Live speakers. The crowd fell silent and gradually, the humming drowned out the whistle of the wind. There was a shrill whistle of the microphone, and soft breathing resonated throughout the complex... Random piano keys chimed and then a voice came.

"Do you feel the night?..." Cooed the voice. "I'm crazy for you..."

As if on cue, the crowd exploded with life, cheering and screaming in a fueled frenzy. The bodies jumped and screeched in glee. Robe clad fans tied their headbands, started beating on their drums and throwing confetti in the air. Teenage girls swooned as their banners and flags darted up in the air. Like marshmallows in a bowl of cereal, floating over their heads. On them were flashy words like [Bennimaru Forever!], [We LOVE Bennimaru.], and the like. A mantra spread through the crowd, the chorus to the coming song... "SO LOVE ME, TAKE ME AWAY WITH YOU..." The piano continued playing, now, less random, a beat started to form, a rhythm, and with the piano, the crowd sang, pleading for their idol to come. The piano stopped abruptly and at the same instant, a lightning bolt came down; A man on stage caught it in his like as if he were a lightning rod, and with the flickering electricity on his hand, you could see his head as he put it close to the light. Reminiscent of the blues brothers, he had the legendary hat and shades.

...

-BEEP-

"Oi Nikkaido, this is Zachary... Guess what, Tom just had a baby, we're all going to his house to celebrate, hope you can come okay?"

-BEEP-

"Hey Bennimaru, What's with you? You still on tour or something? You selfish bastard! HAHA ^_^. Just kidding, come on, the boys and I are going to get a beer, you wanna come? Call me okay... 862-3305."

-BEEP-

...

He stretched his arm up in the air and the electricity slithered down his arm around his black sport coat and slithered right down to his dark slacks. The spark of lightning disappeared into the floor. As it hit the grount, it was immidiately absorbed by the stage – hungering for its life, its electricity, it ate it all - the floodlights and multi-coloured spotlights illuminated the performer. The man stood with his legs in an upside-down V, his arms behind him. Five other men, similarly dressed marched onto stage and stood as their lead stood in front of them. The lead took off his hat and shades with his left hand, threw them to the crowd and in the same motion, used his right hand to shred his coat and slacks into rippled tatters. With all attention focused on him now, Bennimaru Nikkaido stroked his hair up until it was stiff and standing. Bennimaru covered his face with his hand and seductively, slowly slid his palm down, revealing his androgynous face. Continuing his slow ooze, his hand ran down his sleeveless, shoulderless black leather shirt, all held up by a single leather strap. Bennimaru had his white, skin tight leather pants that probably squeezed his balls up his ass. Bennimaru snapped his hands up to his trademark hair one last time and arched his back, putting his crotch forward. With the speakers put up to their limits, the synthesizers, organs and electric guitars started dishing out hip, fast paced idol pop beats that fused with the girls' screaming. The five dark costumed men behind Bennimaru danced spastically in unison. In one harmonized choreography, they sent their hands up, looked to the left, jumped up and spun around, did splits and started another routine.

...

-BEEP-

"Nikkaido, this is Mickey. Man you work so much, you don't answer any of our calls anymore. Are you still alive? Catch you later okay..."

-BEEP-

...

Bennimaru ran to the michrophone and as if he was going to swallow it, began singing, and in between gasps looked sweetly at the hypnotized audience, occasionally catching a glimpse of a fainting fan.

Not only was Bennimaru a cute idol face, body good enough to eat, or was it his singing that captivated the audience; it was the light show that was the crowd pleaser. During the chorus and the more upbeat runs, he would wiggle his fingers, and lightning would run though in between his digits, slithering around his arm and jumped up and over like juggling balls. Bennimaru put his legs together, hung his arms up in a makeshift cross and let the lightning envelope him in a chain of light.

The adolescents love his music...

"...LOVE ME NOW..."

Tunes of easy love, young love...

"...DANCING INTO THE NIGHT..."

Where, at that time, was simply wrapped in candycane and tinfoil, the kind of love, the only kind the youth can understand.

"...I WANT YOU... I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU..."

A fairytale... The music is as falsified as snow white, but sometimes...

"...I'M CRAZY FOR YOU..."

If the ignorance makes you happy...

"...I'M CRAZY..."

It's a simple preaching...

"...CRAZY..."

...

-BEEP-

"Jouta. Hello... Uhm... I just wanted to say hi. I haven't talked to you in such a long time. You're never home and I can never reach you at your work number... call back okay...

I love you... click..."

** -Beeeeeeep-**

...

It's crazy. It's so easy to fool these mindless youth. Lost and confused, they hunger for a hero, a hero with all the answers. He isn't a leader, not a God; unfortunately, he wasn't a hero as well. He was nothing but an entertainer. He gives his fans what they want, reassurance in a youth that can be lived like a pop song, easy and care free. No, he's no hero, none of the songs are his own, none of the dance steps or the fancy lighting. He is nothing but a medium for the zombied masses; and at the end of the concert, he picks up his red and white electric guitar and slings it over his shoulders. He runs his fingers over it slowly, gliding his hand up it's shaft. Remembering... He plucks a note and with a light smile, he ends the show like he always does...

Bennimaru puts the guitar onto the side and speaks coolly, solemnly to the mike...

"Thank you." Bennimaru says as the lights dim and leaves him alone . All this is the fame, glory, all for his followers.

...

"Good luck, Jouta." A young red haired girl said behind her boyfriend as she tugged lightly onto his black leather jacket.

Jouta Nikkaido was a simple boy who lived out in a farm somewhere in the outskirts of Hokkaido, Japan, but the simple life wasn't for him, he thought. With only his guitar and his ambition, he decided that he would make a name for himself. Maybe in NHK he mused, in little Tokyo, maybe he could make his dreams come true.

"Even if you don't make it, I'll still be waiting, don't be afraid to come back okay?" She said sweetly. She couldn't bear to see her beloved Jouta off, but she didn't want to get in the way of his dream. Jouta only lived for one thing, to be free of such a simple life, and be a musician. She had fond memories of them sneaking out in the middle of the night , and up on green hill, Jouta would bring his guitar. It came naturally for him, as if his fingers were dancing, plucking lightly on the guitar strings, and he sang like the evening wind. Soothing and calm. His songs were about a simple life, about things you take for granted, but she enjoyed Jouta's ballads about love the most. Love... It was harsh and painful, **but you knew it was real...**

There was a long hiss as the shuttle arrived.

"Saa… Well, I'll be seeing you." Jouta said as he waved when he got up the steps.

"I love you." She replied, her wide happy smile covering her teary eyes.

Jouta jumped down, kissed his girlfriend one last time and returned to the annoyed yet chuckling bus driver. Jouta sat down at the very back of the bus and sank his hand deep into his pockets. A crumpled white piece of paper had three names... Hide, Toshi, Yoshiki and a phone number. These guys needed a singer, hopefully someone who could do rhythm guitar, and Jouta wanted to try his luck.

...

At night these streets come alive. People bickering down the sidewalks, the bike gangs roaring across the asphalt, the occasional squirming and misunderstandings here and there. Although there were one of two discos, this is LIVE HOUSE TERRITORY, a crammed basement stuffed with enthusiasts who want something fresh and new. Hopeful garage bands longing to make it big. Strut and fret their time to be judged by cretins. There is a neon sign above the descending staircase. Live House GUN. A place where you humble yourself like trash and but in the end, make your dreams come true. AND YOU CAN DESTROY EVERYONE deep down inside.

There are no commercials, no billboards, no cocky radio deejays bloating your ego. All they have is faith and that small black felt board with those cheap white plastic letters. Toshi, Yoshiki, Hide and Jouta. In a bad haircut band called GUY. Screaming, hungering to be noticed for their worth.

...

"Hide, get your bass, let's tune." Toshi said as he dragged his guitar across the studio.

"Jouta," Yoshiki called from the other side of the room. "Master (the title for the guy who owns the live house), said that a talent agent is gonna be in the crowd tonight; you'd better do good. Got it?"

"No problem!" Nikkaido replied with a reassuring smile, his red and white electric guitar in hand. Jouta ran his fingers through the strings like anyone would make one's fingertips dance on a pool of water. "We're gonna make it big, I **promise** you..."

...

"Nikkaido-kun," Master smiled. Master is probably in his mid thirties, his white silvery hair is tied back in a ponytail. It's not his black goatee that makes him look quite strange, it's his curly mustache that twirls in a spiral... Yes, like curly fries.

This was it.

"Lucky break. Ms. Takahashi wants to speak to you alone in the office." Master brushed up next to Nikkaido and patted his butt with both hands.

Jouta Nikkaido's heart skipped beats when he stood face to face at the office door. What was behind door number one wasn't merely a car or a new Tupperware set, it was his band's future, his future and his dreams. A million thoughts ran through his mind that made the gibberish of the New York stock exchange seem tame. Should he have changed, was his pony tail neat enough, what should he say, should he be formal or easy going. Jouta stretched out his hand, and the doorknob gyrated with his tension. Before he could even take the ritual deep breath, the door swung open, and Ms. Takahashi bade Nikkaido in. Jouta's eyes widened and his heart fell a thousand miles. Something in the back of his neck snapped but Jouta tried to force himself to regain his composure.

"So, you're… Jouta… Nikkaido..." Ms. Takahashi cooed seductively as she looked Jouta over, head to toe like a hunk of meat.

Takahashi was only a head shorter than Jouta, but this didn't hide the aura that was radiating from her. Takahashi's hair was in a ball, all pulled up to resemble a plum with tiny streams of hair occasionally running down the sides. Her lips were blood red, and her thin triangular sunglasses made her look more sinister. With her manicured, 2 inch long fingernails, Takahashi invited Nikkaido to sit and went straight to the point.

"I was impressed." Ms. Takahashi smiled. "I want you. I can start your concerts and make you famous."

At that moment, Jouta's heart raced with joy, and he couldn't hold his smile back.

"You liked us? Really?!" Jouta exclaimed with his hand behind his neck in embarrassment. "You're going to give GUY a deal?"

"No... You don't understand..." Takahashi said grimly between puffs of her cigarette. "Who I want... Is YOU..."

"I... I don't get it.." Jouta said confused.

"I don't care about your band, all I want is just YOU. With your looks, I can make you an idol star in no time." Takahashi smiled. "You don't even need to worry about songwriting, all you need is some dance lessons and you're all set. With that [face], you'll make it in no time."

Each heartbeat was as loud as thunder and felt like an eternity to Jouta.

...

"You son of a bitch!" Hide cursed as he swung his fist into Jouta's belly, making Jouta wince and crumble against the wall.

"What the fuck.." Toshi cut in, shocked at the sudden turn of events.

"Tell him, Yoshiki." Hide growled, lighting a cigarette and crushing it between his lips.

"The concert... It's canceled." Yoshiki said in a monotone, without even looking up from his slouch. "They say Takahashi was behind it."

"Neeh, Jouta... You've been skipping band jams lately, and you've been seeing that Takahashi bitch a lot. Just what the fuck are you up to?"

"Look, don't get angry..." Jouta tried to calm hide down as best as he could.

Hide slammed his palm to the wall and eyed Jouta menacingly.

"You sold us out... Didn't you?" Hide growled.

"Look, let's not jump to conclusions, right Yoshiki?" Toshi tried to plead to everyone.

With his expressionless face, Yoshiki hid behind his dark circular shades... "I don't know anymore."

"Answer me, damn it!" Hide yelled at the top of his lungs. "What've you been doing behind our backs all this time?"

There was no answer and Jouta merely looked to the side, not wanting to meet eyes. Hide cocked his fist back, but through frustration just gave up and picked up his bass.

"The things you hear in a bar aren't entirely bullshit you know, Jouta." Hide scowled as he opened the door. "You wanna be a pussy licking idol singer? FINE!" Hide slammed the door and Toshi followed to try and calm the bassist, who knows what Hide might do with a temper like this.

"If there's a jam, WE'LL call you." Yoshiki mumbled as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulders. It was his way of saying that it was all over if Jouta wanted out. Jouta knew, and with that, Jouta was left alone in the studio. It happened so fast, and the empty room seemed to sneer and taunt him, like a million freckle faced tattle-tails snickering "GOOD FOR YOU!" while wagging a million index fingers left and right. Jouta bit hard and grimaced uncontrollably, making the veins on his temples pump. With all the strength he had left, he slammed his fist on the wall, and to his surprise, waves of electricity appeared from the walls and ran through his fingers. In a delirious state, Nikkaido tensed all over, unknowingly drawing all the current from around him. Nikkaido's eyes started to whiten, and his head felt like it was about to split. In an uncontrollable haze, he sent his fist through the wall, in an effort to expel the power within him.

"I don't care about your band, all I want is just YOU."

EPILOGUE:

"The concert... It's canceled." Yoshiki said in a monotone.

The lights dimmed and slowly, the speakers died out. As the crowds murmurs fade away, the peace and stillness return to the stage. Without a word, the roadies come from the shadows and do their jobs, pulling wires and lifting speakers. There are no more cheering crowds, or flashing lights. Bennimaru's time is up.

-BEEP-

...


	20. Happy – Sad Happy - Sad

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Oh how it's been a while since I've hated a person so…

-06.29.06

**Chapter 20: Happy – Sad; Happy - Sad**

"...Monday You can fall apart; Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart. Thursday, doesn't even start; It's Friday, I'm in love..."

-the Cure.

...

What a horrible feeling it is, to be so tired, yet you can't sleep.. It's like oversleeping. Your mind is awake yet your body is screaming at your aching joints. Instinctively , you lie in bed, but it ultimately makes it worse. Shit, what a horrible feeling, I feel like trash. I fumble through the white sheets; I've got to command one limb at a time to move. Just next to my bed is a dresser and I look at the mirror - look at my undoubtedly limp and lifeless face. My short blonde hair's a mess. Ug, and my white shirt, I fell asleep in it again, well, figuratively speaking. At least I was smart enough to take off my pants, it'd probably be ten feet up my ass if I'd have worn 'em to bed. Oh, this is cute. The shoulder of my shirt just slipped down, maybe I should pose like those models do, exposing a bare shoulder.

"..."

Humph! The sports bra ruins the effect... I seem so out of it now. What self respecting guy would give me the time of day... Wait, what am I thinking... Sigh... I'm back where I started now, with my back on the mattress, all energy drained. I could've sworn I heard someone knocking...

...

King broke from her trance when she realized that Robert was the one knocking.

{But it's only 8:30... In the MORNING!} King's mind screamed. So she put up the covers and pretended that she was fast asleep.

"King... King-san, I know you're awake. King!" Robert called.

Robert was answered by mumbles and faint groans from under the sheets. It wouldn't have changed anything even if King had remained silent.

"NNGGARGH!" King growled, thanks to Robert's constant poking.

"HA! Knew it!" Robert greeted. "Good morning."

King turned around, still in bed, the sheets were a little below her neck. She stared grumpily at Robert.

"Teme (jerk), did it ever occur to you that I was sleeping." King groaned.

"We're going out. You said okay last night." (yeah right... That never happened. -Susan)

"What?! Who with?"

"Just you and me." Robert answered.

"WHAT!" This time, more forcefully. "You mean.. like... a date?" King's voice now softening to an unbelieving whisper.

"Bin-Bong! (bingo!)" Robert cheered, his hands forming a hand gun.

King refused to believe and hid under the sheets. Robert continued to nag King and started to pull the covers off. The covers were pulled down to King's nose and she tried to hold on to the sheets.

"Get up! Get up!" Robert nagged while he pulled the sheets.

"Da-me! (don't) I'm not dressed!" King answered in retaliation.

"Yeah right." Robert said. "I'm not going to see anything I haven't seen before", referring to the sight he sees every time King would NORMALLY wake up. (and walk down the stairs)

"Please... ROBERT!" King pleaded, her voice almost bordering to sobs.

Robert saw the look in King's eyes and stopped his teasing. Robert held his hand out to King. She reached out with her right arm and held her sheets up to her chest with her left. Robert offered her a cup of coffee to get her going.

"Since when did you become the bashful type?" Robert sarcastically asked.

"Shut up." King said, not even taking her gaze off the insides of her smoking cup of coffee.

"Well, you're going to get dressed, even if I have to do it myself!" Robert declared with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Ba-ka. (stupid)" King said flatly, snobbishly, but her bravado was stolen the moment Robert reached for the covers once again. It was a tug of war again; King was now at a disadvantage without her right hand that was busy with the coffee.

"Yada! Dame! (no, don't!)" King pleaded. "Okay, you win, I'll get dressed!"

Robert smiled from ear to ear. He got King's coffee cup and proceeded to walk out.

"I'll be waiting outside." Robert said. "Hurry up and get dressed okay..."

...

Outside King's room was a small landing that lead to a descending staircase which opened to the club proper. Robert Garcia sat on his bottom on this landing and leaned onto the wall just outside King's room. So, this was it, he'd finally done it, but somehow there was something missing... Robert had dreamed of this moment for months, but now it didn't seem so fulfilling. He tried to look down to his neck, and there hung a set of gold chains. Macho chains, he remembered. When he was sixteen, he wanted to have those chains so badly, went to that one shop everyday, just to marvel at them. Then one day, he saw a man walk into the store...

"How much are those chains?" Robert heard him say to the saleskeeper.

Robert's chest felt so tight he could hardly breathe. Someone was going to take his dream away from him... Robert praised goodness when the man took out his wallet and mentioned that he didn't have enough and would come back for the chains.

So, Robert decided he'd do something about it. Instead of looking like a loser - getting upset and frustrated everyday, he'd work for it. Robert took part time jobs, carrying crates from the dock to trucks in the mornings, went to school and then worked in a small shop in the afternoons. Never had Robert been so determined. He thought nothing of the fatigue and the time spent with work; thoughts of those gold chains kept him going. After a months worth of perseverance, he had finally gotten enough. The gold chains were still waiting for him; Robert smiled in glee, and when he had bought the gold, he rushed home and stood in front of the mirror for hours. The first thing he did the next day was show his prize to Ryo who had worked along side with him at the pier, and Ryo's sister, Yuri who stood next to him at the shop with him all that time as he marvelled at his treasure from ever so far away. Their smiles and congratulations made him proud, but that was it. Robert immediately quit his jobs and spent the rest of his time sitting in the sidewalk outside his house, doing nothing. After a short while, the magic faded. Robert felt bored and useless. The only other times he felt alive was when he was asked by Ryo to help rescue Yuri in the Southtown incident, and also when he worked at La Bijoux, trying to win King's attention...

It was all coming to an end now as Robert waited patiently outside King's door. Just like a schoolboy, wasting away during summer vacation, Robert sat. This was stupid, really. People are never content and can't live without pain and hardships. It was inevitably just a part of being a fighter.. To be a dreamer...

...

There was a click, and the doorknob to King's room turned. King was wearing a plain white T-shirt, Khaki safari shirt pants that had those insane number of tiny utility pockets, and brown hiking Dr. Martens.

"Well, you ready?" King asked.

"Don't tell me you're going out wearing that!" Robert countered. "You should change, wear a skirt or something."

"Now YOU'RE going to tell me what to damn wear!" King spat out, looking irritated and upset.

Robert put on a calm smile and motioned for King to cool down. "That's not what I meant..." Robert said coolly. "Here." and he handed a large black cardboard bag to her. "Try these..."

King peeped into the bag and immediately looked up, her facial expressions clearly saying "No."

"Please?" Robert begged. "If only just this once."

King let out an exhausted puff and went back into her room.

...

Robert remembered the preceding night, just after closing when he was alone with Yuri. Yuri held out her hand and gave the black cardboard shopping bag to him.

"Here, you might need this." He recalled Yuri say. "Remember, don't be rude... and never leave a lady behind, always walk next to her."

Robert nodded, thanking her for the advice and support.

"Uh..." Yuri stammered. "...good.. luck..."

Yuri stood in the darkness with Robert, the moonlight silhouetted their bodies. Yuri ran out of things to say, to advise Robert, so she just put faith on him. She just wished him the best of luck. Yuri couldn't do anything more and just stayed... out.. of destiny's... way. Yuri walked out of the den, slung her bag, and went home.

...

King exited the room a second time and stood still and unmoving in front of Robert with her new outfit that was given to her. She wore a long sleeved, white blouse and over it, she had an overall type top, beige, which went down to become a long skirt that went down to her ankles, just above her short white socks and platform sandals. In King's hands she held a soft, beige linen hat.

Robert couldn't help but grin immediately.

"Don't laugh..." King said. "That's it, I'm going to change!" and she spun around to reenter the room.

Robert quickly reached out to King's wrist and turned her around.

"It's beautiful." Robert said solemnly. "It suits you better... than the others..."

...

DEFINITION OF ROMANCE (noun):  
As a literary genre of high culture, romance or chivalric romance is a style of heroic prose and verse narrative. **A colourful world.** A novel or other prose narrative depicting heroic or marvelous deeds, pageantry, romantic exploits, usually in a historical or imaginary setting.

"Good luck."


	21. Night at the Carnival

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Let's meet again, just like yesterday – even though back then, we said no words to each other, and wished that [today] would end – we knew that we would love to return to the peace of [today]; **in this place** – the little coffee shop in [purgatory].

-03.31.06

**Chapter 21: Night at the Carnival**

"Terry-san!" Tony called out with a brown paper bag in his hands.

Terry Bogard sat on the edge of the pier with a fishing rod. The youngster, Tony looked in the pail next to Terry, apparently, it wasn't Terry's lucky day. There were no bites.

"Hungry Terry-san?" Tony asked.

Despite the long evening and nothing to show for it, the blonde haired man just remained in a trace – and if it wasn't for something to happen – maybe it was just a strange act to pass the time. Terry finally looked back and glared at Tony like a concerned parent would. Terry put his fishing rod down and looked up from his Indian squat sitting position. He crossed his arms and let out a sigh. The effect was ruined, of course, by the growling of Terry's stomach.

"Well... at least your stomach's honest." Tony laughed. Terry accepted one and bit into the hot dog he was offered.

"So, what brings you here?" Terry asked Tony. "You run away from home again?"

"Not really..."

"Does your mother know you went all the way here to New Hong Kong chasing after me again? You almost got in trouble for that the LAST time!"

"Hey, last time was different."

"You know, Tony, you're really a pain in the ass to have around."

Tony smirked and crossed his arms. "Heh! You'd be drunk in the gutter or dead now if I wasn't there to bring you home every night you got plastered!"

Terry shut up abruptly after that, and tried to think fast or he'd be stumped by a kid. "You haven't answered my question! Does your Mother know you're here? Or are you here again to make my life miserable again?" Terry couldn't help but put the last line in jokingly.

"Take it easy Terry, she knows, she knows. Actually, she got stationed overseas, and I had to stay at home. So I told her I'd visit you, so you could keep an eye on me."

"Visit me? Yeah RIGHT!" Terry called. "What do you want kid?"

"Who me?"

"Out with it, kid!" Terry prodded.

"Are you still drinking, Terry-san?" Tony tried to change the subject.

"Are you trying to change the subject, Tony?"

"Oh.. okay.." Tony said all the while staring at his own shuffling feet. "I want to train with you. I want to go to the King of Fighters '94 with you!"

Terry exploded in a fit of laughter. "I don't do fights anymore, kid! I don't drink anymore either." Terry got up and pointed at the dirt marks on his jeans. "You see this kid? I'm just a construction worker now. I don't need to go out and beat up people. We beat Krauser, I don't need to fight anymore right?"

"But TERRY!" Tony pleaded out loud. "You live for fighting. Fighting is your life. Don't tell me you were serious about what you said in Krauser's place that time."

Terry swallowed the last bit of his hot dog whole and put his hands in his pockets. "Why do I fight... I've proved that I'm better than Geese, I have my revenge, and I was able to defend myself against a maniac named Wolfgang Krauser. There's no more reason to fight." Terry said with a queer look and a smile.

"But.. you can't just.. stop.. You're my hero." Tony said.

"You know Tony, you know what fighting gets you... You don't feel it yet.. That's because you're still young, but when you fight like I do, after the fight, there's nothing left. All the hate I had for my enemy is gone, and I don't know what else to do. I don't make cars, I don't teach children, I don't do anything worth a damn." Terry said reassuringly. "But with the job here at the site. I have a family, and they care for me as I do for them. I don't want to taste that bitter feeling that..."

Terry stopped when Tony looked up at him. "Oh..." He said in a sad voice. "Then... I..."

"Tony, why don't you go home. You have nothing to get out of me. I am just some old fighter who's past his prime and in some construction site. Go to school, you'll end up better."

"But I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!" Tony started to cry. "I don't want to do math and do problems that I don't like. I don't want to make cars, or teach kids when I grow up. I want to fight! I want to be like my dad! I want to be like you!"

"Look Tony, you want to be like your dad? You want to end up like your dad? DEAD in the ring and after a few months, forgotten by those fighting magazines, his statistics just random papers in some rusty old filing cabinet? You want to end up..."

{**You want to end up like me...?** Drunk all the time and always frustrated because...} was what Terry wanted to say {…just fishing for nothing in a cold night because there was nothing else to do…}, but he didn't have the guts to say it. For the next ten minutes Terry poured the lecture attitude down at Tony, telling him how incompetent, irresponsible, wishy-washy, pathetic, intangible, and fruitless his ambitions were. Terry had given up the fight a long time ago, trading it in for a mundane life as a construction worker. Ever since those hard days when he ran away from home, from Andy, he wanted to get it over with. The hate of revenge within burned him at the edges, but secretly he just wanted to put an end to it, so that his father, Jeff Bogard would be put to peace. After he had beat Krauser near death in front of Tony's eyes. Terry wondered to himself those elapsing moments, why he fought that battle, with Geese, with Krauser. It was some sick pride he decided. Terry decided to stop fighting altogether, for Tony's sake and for his own sake, because he couldn't take the pressure anymore. It would make everyone happier. It would make Tony's mother happier, it would make Andy happier, it would make.. Lili.. It would make Lili rest in peace. A simple life, Terry mused. That was what he always wanted.

Terry looked down at Tony, at Tony's teary eyes. **"How stupid your ambitions are!"** He would say, then Tony looked up, and shouted...

"NO THEY'RE NOT! I'm gonna be the best and then when I do, I'm gonna show YOU!" Tony yelled and held out his fist, full of confidence and without fear, even though he was addressing his idol, champion of the King of Fighters. Tony felt no fear, and Terry's lectures and condescending words only fueled his desire.

For one brief moment, a moment that seemed like an eternity, Terry and Tony's eyes met.

Tony's teary orbs screamed out, and Terry saw for one brief moment, a weak bodied, insolent, lost boy who no one ever believed in. Terry saw himself. And all that time, his conscience knew, but his mind wouldn't accept it. If Terry had one wish, it would be to turn back the hands of time, to start over and if he had a chance, he would go up to his younger self face to face and say to himself... "WHAT YOU'RE DOING IS STUPID! You'll just waste your life... Chasing after a dream that won't be accepted in the real world." Terry chased after his ambitions fueled by his young spirit. No one in the real world cared for a fighter, there are only places for businessmen, engineers, and the like, no room for people like Terry who had views aside from the established. Shunned away by society, labeled a vagrant, only to be understood by friends who had the same ambitions he did. Joe, Mai, Andy, Kim... They didn't treat him like the rest of the snobbish yuppies. Because like Terry, they had the fire inside. 'Guess you can't change fate... Terry saw himself in Tony and his lectures had no effect.

**FIGHT . JUST – FIGHT…** until there is nothing left. Never give up.

After a while – the prize is meaningless. We do what we do – for our own reason.

"Hey Tony..." Terry said with a cool head now.

Tony didn't say anything and snobbishly looked to the side, the way kids do.

"You want to go to the carnival, Tony? Come on, let's call it square and let's get out of here..."

Tony didn't answer, but Terry was satisfied with the silent answer when Tony followed his lead to the carnival.

...

"Mr. Bogard. There's this gentleman on line 4 that says he needs to speak to you." Sally, Andy Bogard's secretary blurted on the intercom.

"Take a message and tell him I'm out playing golf or something. I don't really feel like talking right now." Andy replied, his hands behind his back, looking outside the window of his office.

"It's about your brother sir.. he insisted..."

"Terry?!" Andy spun and suddenly shouted out, a mix of curiosity and a hint of concern, wrapped in anger.

"Uh.. yes sir..." Sally stammered on the intercom.

"Put him through." Andy said calmly. Andy put his hands on his desk and leaned over to face the telephone, eyeing it like it was his most bitter foe.

"Mr. Bogard. Good afternoon. I trust that you are well?" Came a voice from the speakerphone.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Names are not important. Have you heard that your brother Terry has declined the invitation to join the King of Fighters '94 tournament.?"

"What are you talking about! He's going to join. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

"Quite a few people have their best interests at stake on the Italian team, so I think some people are on their way to CONVINCE him." The words warping into a shrill sarcastic sting.

"Italian what?.. What team?!... You keep your hands off him, whoever you are! You've got some nerve talking to me about my brother like that. This is OUR business and none of yours."

"Whatever. Andy Bogard!" The voice said in a sneer. "Oh by the way, do you know that the carnival can be such dangerous places at this time of day?"

"What the fuck are you talking..."

Andy was answered by the flat tone of the phone. Andy closed the line and ran his hand through his hair. Andy mused who in the world it could be on the phone. Gamblers? Informers? The mob probably. First and foremost, Andy was angered by the fact that he might not get a chance to beat Terry, but still there was this inkling feeling of guilt inside of Andy. He wished that he wasn't informed of any of this. It would make everything better, but it was too late now. He took off his jacket and slung it on his office chair. Then he reached for the intercom button on his phone.

"Sally, cancel all appointments for the rest of the afternoon..."

...

"Why do you have all these caps in your duffel bag Terry?" Tony asked Terry while they were walking in the carnival, apparently forgotten already what had happened a while back.

"Oh.." Terry began as he pulled out three red hats from his duffel bag. He pointed to them one by one. "This, with the [Neo Geo] logo on I, is the first sponsor I had, the year after that, their American counterpart gave me this [Fatal Fury] one, I think they were game companies and wanted to use me as a model for advertising and stuff. I think they did this little fighting game about all those tournaments I joined. This one... I just got in the mail [The King of Fighters]. Caps are pretty easy to make and it was a coincidence I wear em, you notice I have to throw the hat up in the air or to the crowd, it's part of the contract. I like this one the best. Terry pointed to the hat he was now wearing, it was a red hat with a metal plate screwed onto it. Some guy.. I think his name was Obari made it for me. Keep lots of those at home, in case I lose em, which I do all the time."

"Eh..." Tony said with a twitching eyebrow... "So you DO have lots of hats, the way you lose em..." A sweatdrop ran down his cheek.

"Hey Terry, LOOK!" Tony called. "Look! Games!." He said as he pointed to the game booth not so far away. "I know you can do it Terry! You're the best."

Terry looked down at Tony and to the booth. They both made their way to it as soon as Terry had finished his cotton candy.

...

The object of the game was simple. Terry was given a paper net for a dollar, and all he had to do was scoop up the fish with it, once the net ripped, that would be the end of the game. Terry had his eyes set on a big plump goldfish, but it eluded him repeatedly. The goldfish was probably rolling over with laughter at Terry's sour face and at the six broken paper nets clipped between his fingers...

Although Terry was the pacifist, one thing he couldn't stand was when he couldn't do something he set himself to do. Terry cringed his teeth and screamed silently. Tony laughed at the tense face, the bulging veins, took it all as a joke.

...

Terry cocked the BB rifle and squinted as hard as he could. 6 Shots. Terry had a choice between 3 sizes of toy soldiers, and ofcourse, Terry chose the smallest and hardest ones. He hit 3 soldiers, all of which were of the biggest size and none of them he never intended to hit in the first place. Tony just grinned, and Terry just forcefully calmed his temper. It was slowly boiling within him.

Terry screwed up again.

"Sorry mister." said the beer bellied old man who was looking after the 'hit the bottle' booth of the carnival. This really wasn't Terry's day. He couldn't hit any bottles, couldn't catch any fish with those paper nets, had no luck with the shooting range or the dunk booth at all. Everything was piling up on Terry, this was definitely not his day.

"Give me another three balls" Terry said as he handed over another dollar.

"Here you go, mac."

Terry took careful aim at the 10 bottles all stacked up in a pyramid. He sent one tennis ball flying, and once again, it missed the target, steering clear and hitting the net behind, a slower second ball only hit the stand where the pyramid was standing on. Terry held his breath and blacked out everything else. The beer bellied man disappeared. The crowd vanished, and soon he could only see the pyramid of bottles...

With all his strength, he threw the tennis ball. He held the ball steady and straight with his mind, his temples bulged as if he were a telepath. Nothing. It raced past and hit the net once again. Terry wouldn't be beaten, so he reached for his pocket to get more change, but there was none left. Tony came up to him.

"Let me try." Tony said. Terry couldn't believe as Tony's first ball cleaved off 4 , then 3 more, then the remaining 3. "OKAY!" Tony cheered as he pointed to the Freddy Krueger clawed glove in the prize shelf. "Lucky!" Tony grinned innocently at Terry.

Terry knew that Tony hid no malice in that smile, but he still didn't feel at ease.

At that moment, Terry felt like the biggest loser in the face of the world. He couldn't do anything right. This annoyed him, angered him somewhat. After all these years, Terry now knew that his biggest enemy was in fact, himself.

This day was just one bad joke, and Terry wasn't laughing at all.

...

"I don't really know what else to do. I'm bored too." Terry said apologetically to Tony who sat across the table from him sipping his root beer float. Tony sat uncomfortably in his seat, and looked at Terry unsure, almost afraid.

"Out with it, Tony, it's okay.. what is it?' Terry said in a kind voice. "I can read you like an open book."

"Uh.. Terry, are you SURE you're not going to join the King of Fighters Tournament?"

"Sigh..." Terry let out with a tired look on his face. "Naw. I think I'm pretty sure, unless there's divine intervention." He said.

...

Terry had lived his entire childhood in the streets, with his brother Andy, until one fateful day they were both adopted by Jeff Bogard, reknowned tournament fighter. Terry could hardly remember any other time greater than that. He never had to think about things like security, food, or a roof over his head. Most of all, he finally knew what it felt like to be loved and to have a family.

That all came tumbling down the day his father was killed. In front of his own eyes, his world crumbled. He could still see his father's face, the pain in his eyes, the cringe of his lips and the scream of pain, it echoed in his mind, making him have nightmares in the daylight.

Another vision, of Geese falling. Then Terry could find peace at last. It was over. There was no more reason to fight. He had reaped the fruits of all those years on the streets. Of all those vagrants who looked down on him and dismissed him as some weak willed kid. He showed them all, and he had repaid his father for giving him memories of childhood, no matter how short they were. They were brief, but sweet.

Would it have been better if he had not run away from home? If not, he wouldn't have lived a harsh childhood. Terry could've just forgotten and forsaken Jeff Bogard. He wouldn't remember those bruises and the insults those 'big boys' threw his way. But if he hadn't, would Terry have grown to be the same man he is now.

All that was behind him now he thought to himself. He felt sort of satisfied with his mundane life, just like it was supposed to be. Nothing special at all. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to see if someone was following him. He didn't have to waste painstaking hours training to defeat some boogeyman in his closet. Hours of angst in those dark alleys were replaced by these easy times. How he longed to live a simple life. How long it was since he could sit down calmly in a carnival without a thought in his mind.

But...

But it was different. He always pictured the whole world full of fun, what he had been denied of. Maybe one day he could meet a nice girl, get married maybe and have a normal life. He thought of Lili, how she died for his sake. Everyone was against him those times, it was himself against all the other ambitious and evil people in the world.

Terry watched the foam froth in his mug of beer. Watched it intently. There were no worries, nothing he had to do. Then Tony came back... to haunt him maybe?

...

He tried to find amusement in those little things, those mundane things like an afternoon at the carnival. Terry couldn't understand how normal people could find happiness and satisfaction in such things. {My god, I think I am going insane} he thought. {I'm rambling...}

"You want some change don't you?" came a voice.

"Eh? Did you say something Tony?" Terry looked up. Tony opened his eyes and looked up from his rootbeer float.

"Huh?" Tony said, genuinely confused. "I didn't say anything."

"Oh.. sorry..." Terry stammered. "I'm going to the bathroom okay."

Terry walked slowly to the bathroom and kept to himself. Bored as a rock. He bent down at the water fountain but before he could take a sip of the water he heard the voice again.

**A water fountain.**

"You've been blaming yourself all this time for throwing away your childhood haven't you?" Devoted selflessly – to a life of fighting.

Terry turned around and saw a little boy looking up to him.

"Who are you?" Terry asked.

"Do you really think you can live a peaceful life even if it's dictated to you? You don't really want to live such a simple life do you?" the kid said.

"Terry." A girl's voice from behind. "Terry..."

Terry spun around to see an aqua haired lady looking sadly at him.

"Lili?" Terry stammered at the specter.

"It's been so long.. hasn't it?"

"Why?" Terry said slowly.

"Are you happy this way?" Lili said in an otherworldly voice. "Living this way?"

"Isn't it what you wanted? You wanted me to forget everything and live a peaceful life." Terry said.

"I didn't want to see the sadness in your eyes. I was naive back then, didn't see the truth, but now I see your face, it's ten times as lonely and lacking as it was back then. The only reason I sacrificed myself for you was because... was because I didn't want you to lose. I never want you to lose."

'I..." Terry started...

"You're fooling yourself." The child cut in. Terry moved his eyeballs back to look at the boy and when he looked back Lili was gone.

"What do you want? Who are you?" Terry said again to the boy.

"You have nothing to look forward to in this way of life. Always bored and feeling a sense of lacking..."

"Who are you, damn it!" Terry said again.

The boy took off his red cap and looked up. "I am Terry Bogard." Terry eyed his child self and in a flash the kid was gone.

"Terry! TERRY-san!" Tony came running. "There are these guys, and they're harassing this girl.. Hurry!"

...

"Can't you take a hint, you jerk!" a **blue** haired lady said in defiance to a band of goons wearing suits and ties.

"You got a problem with something, miss?" The one of the four sunglassed 'blues brothers' mocked as he held on to the lady's shoulder.

"**I don't really care** what the hell your problems are but don't you think four against one girl is really too much?" Terry called out to the troupe, index finger pointed outward so valiantly.

"How cheesy..." Tony mumbled at the side.

"That's him." The lead said, and with that command, the three started to circle around Terry.

"Yes, Mr. Ripper." The came the goons' mumbled replies.

"Terry Bogard, so pleased to meet you." Ripper greeted.

"Who the hell are you?" Terry came back.

"You attending the King of Fighters tournament?"

"That's none of your **g**od damn business!" Terry cursed. The lady took the opportunity and ran from the goons. {Looks like the lady waits for her saviour only in the movies...} Terry thought to himself. "Humph. What a day." Terry said as he was turning around to leave.

"Wait, let me get your autograph." He smiled. Before Terry could realize it, a small gun appeared in Ripper's hand and a quarrel was already in Terry's belly.

"Terry!" Tony screamed.

"Don't worry, we'll just rough you up a bit." Ripper chuckled. "Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Jon! Get 'em boys!"

"Yes sir!" Do and the rest of the troupe answered in chorus.

Terry instinctively had his hands up in guard. He caught Do's punch in his palm, and pulled him in. The world spinned around, then looked downwards from the sky. He dodged another swing from Re, and put his foot behind Re's feet and tripped him. Terry was obviously pulling his punches. A fight was the last thing he didn't want to get into. Terry's gut was on fire, and he could slowly feel the numbing sensation from the drugged quarrel take effect. Terry's mind swooned, made him lose most of his focus. It took him all his remaining composure to keep up with the attacks. Then from the side, Jon came up and rocked Terry's chin with an upper. Terry wobbled to the side, and when his vision failed him, the blurry sight worse than the visibility in San Francisco, his instincts went on auto mode. A familiar feeling. A sweet perverse feeling that made the side of Terry's mouth curl just a little. Terry felt alive once again. Jon came again, laughing loudly at the sluggish Terry. Jon turned around and cocked back as far as he could then threw his punch, laughing all the way. Jon could only gawk in stupor when those tattered black leather gloves came up, the back of Terry's hand slid along the back of Jon's wrist. The blocking hand flew gracefully in the air, slapping away Jon's straight. Terry called out when he could faintly see the sorry expression in Jon's face. And when he saw the whites of his eyes. Terry spun around, and his right elbow was leading the way, diving deep into Jon's collar. Jon gurgled and before he could realize that Terry had scored a hit, Terry finished his backhand, the school of knuckles connecting with Jon's cheek, making Jon tumble and roll to the side.

The ecstasy suddenly left Terry. This was what he had tried to avoid for years - indiscriminate fights. Terry put up his guard again, and only blocked and dodged the following attacks, not wanting to hurt anyone anymore. He thought of the thug he had just downed, and it made him so guilty and dirty inside.

Suddenly three other guys appeared from the background, one of them put his arms under Terry's armpit and locked him in a full nelson, two others each grabbed on to each of Terry's arms. Terry could feel the drug numbing his body. It wasn't particularly potent, he was still awake after all, but he felt like throwing up badly. Terry was getting wobbly, but he caught his bearings once again when he felt a sharp feeling in his gut. A set of brass knuckles dove into his belly and made him spit out. Each of the other goons were taking turns beating him up, all the while Ripper was having a nice laugh.

"You bitches!" Tony suddenly jumped into the open. "You can't take Terry on so you drug him and have six guys beat up on him!"

"Oh YOU!" Ripper laughed. "I didn't know YOU'D be giving us any trouble."

"Shut up you yellow livered bitch!" Tony roared as he raced towards Ripper. Ripper sidestepped Tony's punch, and slapped him, which made Tony madder. The boy flailed wildly but to no avail. With a sneer, Ripper punched him squarely on the cheek, and Tony stumbled back.

"You're a tough little shit, you know that, kid. You haven't changed one bit." Ripper mocked.

"T.. Tony!" Terry stammered between the punches he took.

Hopper attacked viciously sending a right to Tony's belly then followed with a dropping left right across his face and finished with a right hook to Tony's cheek once again. Tony stood there, with his eyes closed, hardly moving.

"Shit, you faint on me kid?" Ripper said.

Tony wobbled and started to fall. Hopper put his fists to his side and snickered, but to his surprise, Tony braced his hands on his knees and looked up. The used up what strength he had left and punched Ripper in the groin. Ripper cringed and started to wobble.

"You LITTLE SHIT!" He screeched, and with that Rippers final kick sent Tony flying.

"You bastard..." Terry grumbled. Terry tensed his arms and in a mad rush, loosened the grip of the two goons holding his arms. He then focused all his attention to the man who locked his shoulders behind him. He reached for the goon's face and put his thumbs under his opponent's eyeballs and squeezed. The man screamed and let go. Terry gave him an elbow and twirled to assess the situation. Two goons came rushing in, one got him in the gut while the other punched his face again. Terry's field of view was still blurry, and it took him all his concentration to stay awake. He grabbed onto one of the goons who attacked and threw him to the man behind him who he had just elbowed. A crowd started to form around the fight, there were mothers telling their children to hurry up and leave while teenagers screamed and cheered. There was another punch and Terry barely caught sight of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and caught the blow. Terry kicked low as hard as he could and with a crash, the goon came toppling to the ground clutching his shin.

"COME ON FIGHT! GET EM! KICK THEIR ASS! GO GO!" the crowed roared at Terry who was obviously pulling his punches. The fight continued for another 7 minutes, the goons easily pummeling the drugged Terry. A suited man came up to Terry with a lead pipe and sent it hacking down to his shoulder. Terry couldn't move away and fell to the floor clutching his collar.

"Finish him off." Ripper commanded.

The goon lifted the pipe in the air and grinned. His glee was stolen from him when a figure suddenly appeared in front of him.

The chemicals turning his stomach inside out. Blurry…

{a **world like any other** – we lived in it.} Could we live alone. Responsible for all the actions we dictate... Terry mused.

A HORRIBLE world. Unlike any other.

…because – we are strong. We support each other. A future that holds a vision – saving it, peacefully – just for us. I WILL FIGHT YOU. Because – I . AM . THE . GREATEST.

...

"You." A red masked fighter roared in front of his face. Before Re could retaliate, he felt a fist in his gut so the goon bent over. Another upper came and the goon stood back up after the shock to his jaw. The masked rescuer then sent a hard chop to the side of his neck, and that was the last Re saw of daylight.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Ripper yelled to Terry's rescuer. "Red...?"

The ninja wore a mask, a red mask. It was a mask of a demon's face. it's mouth was curled in a wicked smile, and horns protruded from its forehead. Adding the sinister look of its face painted with white streaks, full of make up. He wore a black shirt under a white sportscoat, and had white jeans as well. There were no more words, and the remaining five thugs darted towards the new opponent. The red mask ran to meet them, with his fist leading. He tagged one, and twirled ramming his open palm into the unfortunate victim's nose. There was a swing, the ninja put his hand up to block. The punch slipped over it, and quicker than anyone could see, his blocking hand twirled and went under the goon's armpit, and with a roar, the goon was sent flying. Without any mercy, Red jumped up in pursuit of the thug he had just thrown, stepping on his gut, winning a gurgling call. The Red mask stood his ground and waited for the next two to get within range, then let his foot swing full circle. The ninja's foot felt like a baseball bat when it hit the two on the side of the head. The goons decided to regroup and surround their new opponent. The ninja sent his arms wide and they started to glow.

The tension was broken when sirens were heard. Ripper yelled for his men to make a break for it, and the red masked ninja disappeared as well. The boys in blue came in with their shouts and curses. They broke the crowd and quickly put handcuffs on Terry and dragged him to the patrol car.

At the side Tony clutched onto his side and tried to stagger.

...

A few minutes after the patrol cars left, Andy Bogard sipped his cup of espresso by the side of the Ferris wheel. He ran his fingers to comb his hair and straightened his white jacket.

"Onisan... (Big brother) Kono BAKA! (what an idiot.)" Andy spat out. He dug his hands into the back of his pants and threw a red demon mask into the garbage can.

...


	22. Zoo

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

One thing holds you back, up until you can overcome it, then you can go on with your life without a care just as society dictates – this is an integral part of suffering... Find a soul mate, live, procreate – worry about trivial matters; Is this how you want to live your life?

Pass the suffering forward… We procreate to pass on the suffering we couldn't defeat in our very own lifetime.

-05.16.06

**Chapter 22: Zoo**

I turn on the radio and hear some amateur sounding garage band youths playing acoustic guitars, and singing lyrics that don't even rhyme...

"I took Joy to the zoo. We spent our day there, and I tried to make her happy. To pass the time, we were having fun. We saw the animals, went to the roller coaster rides. I even bought her ice cream. Then she told me that her boyfriend left her because he didn't like...

...her hair."

-unknown

What a stupid song I said that time and turned the radio off. It took me a while to see those words ring some truth. I was still incompetent then.

...

Just waiting outside La Bijoux was Robert's Dad's Red Ferrari,., ready to go. Robert held the door open as King was still trying to get the hang of those platform slippers, but what was tough was getting into the car with her ankle length skirt.

"So, where are we going?" King asked.

".." Robert replied. "...To the zoo!"

"The what!?"

"The zoo... you know; with the animals."

"That's not what I meant." King said flatly.

"Would you rather go to some fashion boutique?" Robert said sarcastically.

"TO THE ZOO!" King declared, pointing the way.

...

"Why are Bengal Tigers white?" King asked while she leaned on the rails overlooking the deep tiger pit.

"I don't really know... Probably the same reason they're not yellow." Robert replied. "If you had hair dye, maybe we'd be able to put blue and pink stripes on them." Robert suggested.

"Ba.. ka... (idiot)"

...

Just add a little music, and the scene would have been a great video. Robert was trying to remember the lyrics to that stupid song he had once heard on the radio. King should spend less time sleeping, Robert thought, she seemed so calm and relaxed, and her look of enjoyment seemed more than an illusion, for Robert had never seen king laugh and smile away from her bar. It was like a girl opening her Christmas present to find the doll she always wanted. Robert had trouble keeping up with King, who was now leading him by the hand - showing him around. Robert was always used to the sluggish, half asleep King. She seemed to enjoy the dolphins; King remarked how dumb looking, innocent yet charming they were. It took some time for Robert to divert the subject from the theory of talking dolphins. King was so alive, so full of questions, acting as if...

**...as if there was no tomorrow.**

"Do you feel like lunch?" Robert asked, handing King a strawberry ice cream cone.

"What's that..." King joked.

"Oh, right, you never wake up for it." Robert laughed out loud.

King stood happily just next to the rails of the monkey pit. She laughed when the, orangutans were they (?), waved back at her. Robert waved as well, but all the monkeys did was stick their tongues out at him. King giggled.

"You know... I've never seen you smile before." Robert said.

King, suddenly feeling conscious, put her soft linen hat on, and crossed her arms, in a pout.

"Don't I smile at work?" King remarked.

"You know what I mean." Robert said. "Since you don't want to eat lunch, let's go..."

"Go where...?"

"To waterworld, in Neo Tokyo." Robert replied.

"But... But I don't have a bathing suit."

"No problem, I'll take care of it." Came Robert's predictable answer. Robert pressed King's memory back to that brown bag King asked about that was in Robert's car.

...

"Well..." King mumbled when she looked down to her shuffling feet.

Robert put his hands into his smiley face swim shorts and grinned at King. Robert had given her a black, shoulder-less bathing suit that had a nice see through mesh that exposed King's belly and midsection, making the outfit look like a mock bikini. She put her hands behind her back and her cheeks blushed a bit.

"Why? Never worn a bikini in a water park before?" Robert teased.

"No, not really..."

"That's good, I thought you were staring at my trunks."

There was a near endless barrage of joked "BAKA(s)" (idiot), and Robert just held King's hand and lead her to the three storey water slide.

King had second thoughts when she was sitting on the orange slide, the tube going all the way down. The screaming enthusiasts didn't help either. Tired of waiting , Robert sat behind King and forced her down with himself behind. The thundering echo of the slide was soon muffled by King's panicked screams of terror.

**Maybe** Robert shouldn't have sat behind and slid down with King. With arms not willing to let go for a moment. **Maybe** he shouldn't've forced her to slide at all. I won't let go - Robert soon found himself being dragged from one slide to the other.

Robert was so tired in no time from King's slides, that the lazy river was his only refuge. King and Robert sat in large inner tubes that floated in a turtle's pace down a long, river like pool.

As the name suggested, the slow stream isolated everyone from the chaos around them as they went their way down – just passing the time. It was hard not to notice King's curious eyes wander to the side at the few couples that held hands as they sat in their large inflated inner tubes next to each other.

Robert splashed some water King's way to catch her attention.

"It's called a boyfriend, King, ever heard of that, since you never go out?" Robert asked out of the blue.

"I'm not so sure." King came back. Rather surprised Robert was when his prodding jeer fished out a thoughtful, rather serious response from her.

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"Well, you know that my dad wanted to raise me as a boy, I guess." King said and Robert nodded lightly. "Well, there was this boy, blonde, and my dad was very fond of him."

Him.

King told Robert the story. Her father treated this boy like his son, her father trusted him with King, probably wanted him to rub off his traits onto King, but first and foremost, he wanted this boy to protect his daughter because he doubted that she could take care of herself. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be – in the real world.

Robert looked up, skyward – as if nothing was the matter.

King made a subtle downcast look.

"I feel kind of sorry for him." King said, almost to a whisper. "He was quite popular with the other girls at school, and I probably ruined his image. Who'd want to be seen around with a tomboy like me anyway..."

King fell silent after that, either because she had run out of things to say, or she was reflecting on what she had just told Robert.

Nobody ever told her she looked beautiful.

{Nobody ever told her she looked pretty} Robert mused.

It was just a complex after all, why King hardly smiled unless she had to at work, why she didn't want to wear feminine clothes and always kept to herself. She was afraid. It was that simple, and her insecurity closed her up.

I rather not – did not care for anyone else, but to me - She was the most beautiful girl in the WORLD. Today is a perfect – because she was the most beautiful day in my **life**.

He held his hand out to greet hers, "Let's go, I have to take you somewhere." Robert said to King as they neared the end of the lazy river. It was getting late, and Robert had to make one last stop before he ended the evening.

...

It was 6:00 PM already, and King wondered if Yuri could hold the fort while they were absent. King nagged Robert that they had to get back soon, but Robert assured that this stop was most important. It was getting too congested in downtown Neo Tokyo, so the pair decided to park the car and continue on foot.

It was getting dark and the neon signs lit up one by one. Before King knew it, Robert and she were deep into downtown, and the sight of love hotels were getting more frequent. King stayed close to Robert, not at all at ease with her surroundings, but at the same time, she didn't want to give him the wrong impression. King continued to nag Robert, but he assured her that they were almost there. Robert finally stopped outside a row of love hotels.

'This is it!" Robert said. King stared blankly and could not bring herself to believe that they were actually standing outside a REAL love hotel.

"Uhm..." King staggered. "I really have to get back to La Bijoux." She said as she slowly turned around.

"Wait... KING!..." Robert called as he held King's wrist.

King swung around looking quite upset. "Look! Let's just call it a day, it's getting dark!" She said coldly.

"But..." Robert stammered.

"If you don't want to take me home, I can WALK!" King said more forcefully now.

"Wait... Just stand out there for a minute okay."

"Forget it, I'm leaving." With that, King spun around angrily and marched away.

Robert didn't give chase, but instead, turned around, and sped off to a small shop next to the hotel. King couldn't help but look over her shoulder. Robert caught up to King who had just stopped and looked back. Robert put down the box he was carrying and dug deep into his pockets, and pulled out a crumpled red paper bag, and handed it to King with a downcast face.

"Here, this is for you." Robert said, looking down as well at the box he ordered from the store.

King fumbled with the red bag and pulled out a ring, a two tone, yellow and white gold ring that had a black leather strap running through it.

"Happy Birthday, King-chan." Robert said.

...

EPILOGUE:

Robert put his hands in his pockets and slouched sadly as he walked alone back to the car. King looked down at the box down at her feet, it had the words 'POSTRIO BAKERY' written in gold on it. King almost cried, her eyes became watery. She put her hand up to cover her mouth but she couldn't hide the teary expression in her eyes. It was a small chocolate cake that said 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY kawaii (cute) King-chan.' on it and a single candle was sticking out of it.

"Robert! Robert wait!" King called as loud as she could.

"Have some cake with me." King continued. "I've never blown candles before." Her voice now a soft sweet whisper. King couldn't stop the tears from streaking her face.

It was a **simple** request.

...


	23. Kaerimasu

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 23: Kaerimasu**

"Love?...it's never enough, it's never enough until your heart stops beating.. the people you meet, it's sweeter than pain, don't give up the game until your heart stops beating..."

-New Order (improvised lyrics of SHELLSHOCK)

...

Iori walked down the hill and as the afternoon sun set, the shadows grew longer for all to see. Next to the telephone pole stood a figure, hidden by the dark. He stood up from his leaning position and exposed part of his face into the light.

"Iori.. Yagami..." Kyo Kusanagi whispered to himself. Kyo crumpled the piece of paper in his hand that had the name of his father's assassin.

...

Sometimes in a perverse kind of way, the daily routine you do keeps you alive and sane, may it be schoolwork or your everyday job. How else can you explain the phenomena of 'the lazy summer afternoons'? You hate everyday, how monotonous and draining it is... but in truth, you LOVE it, you RELY on it. The schedule, the hate. Without it to guide you.. there is nothing...

Day in and day out, it is the same old routine. Acting out your part and taking your share of suffereing and punishment... Then it ends, and you realize for that one brief moment of peace, when you conquer the sadness and pain; that you've suffered so much that you don't know what else to do, or how to handle "the end of suffering".

In a perverse way, you've grown accustomed to the pain. It makes happier moments seem better. Dear friends... Each with their own dream. What is a dream? It – that not merely accomplishment, but more of the task - The hardships. Without it, the dream would have no meaning... Such a mundane experience... Day in and day out...

If you are knowledgeable, you see the hate and suffering, and are miserable; if you are ignorant, you are simple, yet happy. The true meaning is the hardship, and once you find the hate, you will soon learn to love your suffering, once it's all over.

How self loathing... Ironic isn't it? How much we have changed? What do we have left besides these memories? Of those dreary nights that the suffering made times together and accomplishments seem like the best events in our lives.

When Iori left home, left behind the memories... of father, of Miyuki, of that blasted cat, of that innocent servant girl, of his own teacher... he was free, but was it all worth it?

...the bell chimes repeatedly, and the peace that Iori found in that walled kindergarden were engulfed again by the outside world.

...

Iori walked slowly down the street. Kaerimasu, to go back home. Not caring if Billy or Eiji were still at it, throwing garbage cans at each other, he didn't slow his pace or turn around to look back at the two morons.

"Yagami sensei! Yagami sensei!" A middle aged voice shouted from behind.

Iori turned his head around hesitantly and behind him was a lady, holding on to one of Iori's students. She was presumably a parent.

"Yagami sensei! Hiro-kun told me that you were showing your class how to play with fire today." She said quite infuriated. "Just what kind of teacher are you, trying to set such a bad example to these kids? Showing them how to play with matches and the like. That's horrible!"

Iori's hands were safely in his pockets at this time, lucky for her. Lucky as well for her, that Iori's fuming temper didn't show through his blank pokerface. Iori didn't even bother to completely turn around to adrress her. Iori still had his hands, his fists in his pockets, and was looking smugly over his shoulder.

She would never understand. She was like the rest. Mothers... I love my mother, yet I hate her at the same time. Sure they are loving and caring, they naturally are, no matter what some abused or neglected kid may think. They really do love their children in the most primal way. Most of the time, this love clouds all judgement, warps it, and makes it selfish. They love their children so much that their feelings explode and most of the time become a reason to make everything in the world perfect. They love their children so much they don't want their families to look bad at all, they'll do it with any means possible.. women... heh!... But the most horrifying is when...

"Well, will you answer me?!" She said more forcefully, rashly.

It is most horrifying when they love their families so much that they begin to not care about anybody else. Such a confusing line of thought I just had... How can she trust anyone else? How she begin to trust my responsibility to my students as a teacher. She would never understand what it means to have a 'fire' inside? The fire burns out when you grow up, when you leave the school, your own world, those wonder walls, when you get married, when you go through the same routine, when you die. No one preaches about the 'fire' anymore.

When I go to someone's funeral I will say all these good things about that person, all the love she did.. all of it.. then I will end by screaming out... "but YOU'RE DEAD! DEAD!" I will shout and laugh, everyone will think that I am insulting her.. and there is no other person more perfect than a dead woman because everyone remembers her for her love, and the living are remembered by their faults. I will say that "YOU'RE DEAD!" not because I hate her, I say it because I loved her and say that it's such a waste for her to have died. No one will understand me then, much like how they don't understand the 'fire' inside.

A few more words came out of her mouth, some of which were not pleasing at all. The last thin line was about to break, and luckily Seirimi chan came in between them.

"Takagi-san.." Seirimi bowed low. "Please don't get angry, all that Yagami sensei was doing is showing the class NOT to play with fire. I am sure he wasn't trying to be a bad influence. Please pardon this misunderstanding. HONTO NI GOMEN NA SAI (We are TRULY, VERY sorry)." Seirimi bowed low again and said it quite forcefully to make her point that she wanted to break the whole conversation, while still allowing Takagi-san to keep her dignity.

"Well... Well.. make sure you don't do it again.. I don't want my Hiro-kun..." She began... but neither Seirimi-chan, nor Iori (ofcourse) couldn't care less. Seirimi -chan had got him out... again... He calmed down.. relatively. And proceeded to walk down the steep road.

Se ran down the path to catch up, thinking of - "Well..." Seirimi-chan began her hint...

Iori said nothing feeling somewhat immersed in his Sex Pistols tape.

"IORI!" Seirimi yelled.

It took a few seconds for it to register in Iori's mind.

"Eh?" Iori grumbled as if he was trying to get rid of some nasty aftertaste.

"THANK YOU?!" Seirmi said quite annoyed.

"...You're welcome." Iori replied automatically, a visage painted caught between confusion and and something else, not really understanding the situation at hand.

"IORI!"

"What?"

"Don't you even have the decency to thank me for what happened back there?"

"Oh.. sure... I didn't need you though."

At that point Seirimi just gave up. "Oh well.. bye.. See you tomorrow." she said bluntly. Iori didn't look back, he THOUGHT and imagined himself turning back to face her and stuck out his two fingers of his left hand. Goodbye.

Billy sat on top of the school walls. Grinning to himself. {What an idiot...}

...

Iori was too immersed in his slump that he never realized Kyo Kusanagi following behind, trying with all his might to conceal his presence from Iori Yagami. Kyo is rash, and irresponsible, but not stupid. This was obviously a very, VERY serious situation, and he could feel the power radiating from Iori Yagami even in Iori's suppressed state, and it even scared him more when he felt Iori next to that bickering parent. Kyo was scared. He never had to be in school, no one was really a match for him there. For once though.. he was in a situation in which he didn't have full control over. Beyond those school walls, he was like anyone else, and anyone else could be as good as him. None the less, his anger slowly resurfaced. This was Iori Yagami, the one who killed his father. The ruthless child assassin of Yagami clan.

Ten minutes had passed as he stealthily followed Iori through the maze of streets in USA town. Up until he had reached a quieter, more peaceful place. It was a village, the suburbs probably. They were both in a park, a dense park which could be like a forest. Kyo thought this was as good place as any other and ran his hands through his hair. Feeling no more need to conceal himself, he dropped his bag next to the tree softly and with clenched fists, let the magatama flames engulf him. There was a slight heat, a strange feeling caught between warmth amidst the autumn chill. The air around him started to become visible like gasoline in the air, amongst traffic. Then a soft yellow glow, gradually getting brighter. Kyo's power gave life to the dried up leaves in the park. Slowly, with the light seeping through the branches, you could see the leaves twiddle, and sway even though there was hardly any wind. The sand started to float. Within a few seconds, near close to a minute, the magatama flames began to excite the gravel beneath his feet. Kyo cocked his bent arms by his side...

Then there was a snap. Kyo was taken fully by surprise, and he stopped. Kyo looked up, around, behind him and to the side. His gaze darted skywards, spinning amongst the canopy of trees, spinning franticly – staticly fast - around in a hope to find some sort of movement. Spinning around in stillness where the light pentrated the shades of dark. He was sure that there was no one else in that part of the park.. He was sure. Sure as he could be. The thought of someone watching him was deathly frightening, moreso the fact that someone was able to conceal himself from him. He could find nobody, but he was certain that he had heard a brittle branch snap. When he looked back to find Iori, Yagami was gone.

...

Up high on a tree branch stood Eiji, motionless, you could mistake him for a block of wood. His eyes were still and solid, but his mask hid one of the biggest smirks Eiji would make. In his hands he casually held a short brittle twig snapped in two, each piece, clipped between each of his thumbs.

{Keh! Gaki ga... (heh! Stupid brat...)} Eiji thought to himself. {I wonder where that stupid foreigner is?}

AND...

Unknown to Eiji this time, from the edge of the park, by the fence, was Billy who leaned on his staff, and had his back to the iron boundary. Taking pride, for once, he had been 'invisible' to Eiji.

"Well, blimey..." Billy laughed to himself at the cheesy line he couldn't help but force out. Everyone was immersed in their own private joke right about now.

...

A few minutes later Kyo was sure he felt a familiar aura coming from somewhere in the park, getting closer, he noted. First it was coming from behind him, but when he turned around, it was gone, then to the side again, then from another totally different direction, but everytime he would face that direction it would vanish. It was as if someone was mocking him, now Kyo seemed to be the one being stalked.

"Oi, teme! (bastard!)" Boomed a voice from the shadows between the trees.

{Oughk!} Eiji gulped, as the silhouette presented himself. {What the hell...}

"Shit." Kyo cursed under his breath.

It was Iori, the pokerface now showing wrinkles of angst. Walking a slow firm pace, Iori marched towards Kyo, and stopped about 4 meters away from him.

At the edge of the park, Billy too put up his guard, expecting the worst from his young master.

"Iori Yagami!" Kyo mustered enough courage to shout out. "The Kusanagi blood is back for revenge." With that he summed up enough anger and continued to build up his energy.

Eiji noted that there was definitely something wrong with Iori, it was more than the fact that he had come back to pick a fight, it was his face. It seemed evil and disfigured, and Eiji could hardly not notice the erratic twitching of Iori's eyebrows, and the taunt features of his face. This time, Eiji thought, there was something different.

"I'll kill you, Iori!" Kyo called, and he could feel the anger boil within him. The flashes of Saishyu Kusanagi rocked his mind, and he could slowly feel the will to fight. "Give me back my father! You goddamn son of a bitch!"

At that moment he saw it. Kyo saw in the depths of his mind the smile on his father's face and the look of anguish and pain as the flames consumed him...

...

"Oto-san! (Father)..." ...hoarse cough as his own blood choked him... he could see was crimson, streams of his own blood. ...staggered in front of him.

"Run away, K..kk..Kyo..." His father Saishyu beckoned with an outstretched hand. "Run... run..."

Instinctively, Kyo ran to his father's arms, cursing his weakness, for the unknown assailant had swatted him aside as if he were a mere fly... Flames... red... white... no, it was purple. It came towards him hungrily and hoped to devour him whole. In an instant, Saishyu grabbed ahold of his son's blue denim jacket, now stained maroon... body.

The footsteps came slowly, and softly, but to Kyo it seemed as loud as thunderclaps, mocking his insolence with every step.

"Kyo..." came a faint whisper. "Son, I plead you... run away. Worry not about me, my life is over. I have to atone for my crimes..."

"Escape..." Saishyu gasped, "Grow strong... avenge me, but do it out of honour, not hate... I am ... those words a hand gripped Saishyu's head and lifted him up with ease. Kyo staggered ...only watch as his father burst into... it was over and the unseen assassin merely,... embedding his head in place. Kyo cried tears flowed from his eyes, but the fear chained him down.

...

A smile cracked Kyo's angry face... At that moment, he had started THAT fire inside. A life of regret, from that one time of fear, he could finally put behind him.. The flashes, the memories were jagged, spastic erratic, but he remembered the feeling he had that time. Nothing else mattered now. Only the fight. All logic left his mind, only one sole purpose remained. Tatakai.. To fight... Kyo ran his hand through his hair once again, and cocked his head back, sending his brown locks back.

"Ikuzo! (Let's do it!) Yagami!" Kyo yelled as he made the leaves beneath his feet alive again.

...

{K...Ku...Kusanagi...} the name boomed in the depts of Iori's mind. He broke in a cold sweat and shiverred, he didn't understand what was going on. {Kurosu.. Kill} The thought beat him down. Iori bit on his lip, and it bled. Eiji's eyes widened when he noticed the crimson streak racing down the side of his lip. Then came something fully unexpected. Iori slammed both of his palms to the side of his head and gripped it so hard it looked like he was going to squeeze it until it shattered. Iori looked skyward and roared an inhuman growl. Eiji felt a familiar aura... a feeling he had felt once before, a long long time ago. Iori Yagami's eyes, became totally white, and the veins on his temples were pumping feverishly...

...

As Iori clutched the sides of his head, he felt like it was going to explode, he could hear his own heartbeat slamming down like a jackhammer, like drops of water amplified a thousandfold. Then there were voices, some familiar, some totally alien to him. Laughter echoed in his mind, and a chanting.. Kurosu.. Kill... Nikui.. Hatred... Shinda.. Dead... chi.. blood... The world around him blacked out, Iori saw instead of the trees and grass, he saw darkness, the darkness of his own mind. He wanted to scream, he tried screaming, but no sound came out of his mouth. He was aware that his skin felt cold, but inside he felt a strange warmth. {WHO ARE YOU!?} Iori screamed in his thoughts. {'To-san (father) IS THAT YOU!? GoDDAMN IT, ANSWER ME!}

Eiji felt uneasy on his perch high on the tree, so uneasy that he had to hold on to something to make sure he wouldn't fall off if anything were to happen... which he was almost certain of.

"My God... Hakai.. the ultimate will of destruction..." Eiji mumbled under his mask. "Kaori..."

"AARRRAGGGHHHHHH!" Iori let out. This was his final burst of will, before he succumbed to the fire.

...

"Ikuzo! (Let's rock!) Yagami!" Kyo bellowed when he charged himself slowly but finally to his maximum capacity. Kyo's eyebrows tensed and the flames enveloped him in a soft glow, the glow becoming raging flames and then calming down again... This was as powered up as Kyo dared to go, and the way his hair seemed to dance on their own impressed him, made him feel more confident. Kyo looked Iori over, nothing significant had changed with the inceasant screams and growls. Iori Yagami didn't look powerful at all.

"Iori!" Kyo called again. "I'll kill you, you animal!" In a mocking tone at Iori's pathetic appearance.

Kyo was suddenly taken aback when the screams stopped in mid breath. Iori's shoulders jerked suddenly, and he looked up slowly, menacingly. His eyes were almost milky white and the cold sweat beaded down his temples and face, drenching his shirt completely. Then for the first time, Kyo heard the laughter.. The terrifying laughter that neither Billy nor Eiji could ever understand.

"Hnnn hnn hnn..." Iori mumbled. "Kusanagi..." he said in a slurred chucking tone.

Iori's eyebrows were twitching. The feeling of a girl in love. The sudden rush, The ecstacy of anticipation. Ready to tear the high school student into shreds.

"Yagami..." Kyo said again... Making his flaming aura brighter and...

"...and I will cast as well, the angels from this earth. The saintly and the weak willed who stand in my way..." Iori began.

"...who stand in the way of my ambition, and my conquest for power and the ultimate destruction." Kyo mumbled, almost automatically to himself. Kyo tried so hard where he had heard that line before...

Then to Kyo, Eiji and Billy's horror, everything stopped. The birds stopped chirping, the wind died and made no sound, no grass, no leaves, nothing. The trio witnessing Iori couldn't even hear their own breaths or feel their own heart beat.

"SHI-NE! DIE!" Iori echoed, breaking the eerie silence. In that instant, iori EXPLODED into purple flames. "AAAARARRARAAAAGGHHHH!"

"Oughk! Hakai..." Eiji mumbled, trying to cover his face.

"Ugh! Sugoi.. sugoi... (incredible)" Kyo said in fright. "Tsuyoi! (It's strong).. Kono teme no chikara da! (This Bastard's power...)"

What Kyo took close to a minute or so to accomplish, Iori had done tenfold in a split second. Kyo didn't spend anymore time rationalizing about the situation and with flames in his hands, charged straight on to Iori, his right elbow leading the way.

"Kuresento Surashyu!" Kyo called...

"KOI! (come!)" Iori answered in a voice evil, echoing, hollow and otherworldly...

{Shimata! (SHIT!)} Eiji snapped.

Time stopped then. Billy, stood up straight, and cocked his Bo (stick) back to his back.. Eiji bent his legs. Kyo ran, and Iori smiled. An evil smile indeed, some unknown hate denied vengeance for so long. The leaves flew up and encircled the pair of Kyo and Iori. Dust got into their eyes, but neither would dare to blink...

...


	24. We'll always be together

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

NEVER FORGET - that in this world, YOU are responsible for every soul you touch.

If you pick up a friend from the depths of pain, you have a responsibility to see the story through - till the very end; but in this way you can realize that your life was not for nothing.

-05.31.13

**Chapter 24: We'll always be together**

Afternoon... All the things you've been told were mostly lies, kneeling in the dark rain thinking; and slowly, I came to grips with the realization of my helplessness in the whole scheme of things, of my insignificance against the whole world. This is what separates those who are destroyed by the complexity of lies, given before due time.

...

Terry spent the night in jail. Not very becoming for a person on the road to a more peaceful life. The events were coming one after the other. As if he was being pawned within a conspiracy, but he told himself he didn't care. They always tell themselves they never care about things. They say that they only care about what's right for themselves, not what HE thinks is right. The day at the carnival was one of the worst days he had had eversince he had decided to put aside his past life. Terry was always stupid. Stubborn, maybe.

He never fit in, in this world. From the very beginning, he was hated by all, an orphan that was considered a burden. From the very beginning he was told that nobody needed him. He was weak both in spirit and body. So he became angry. Anger was his only refuge. As one day seemed to melt into the next, without separation without distinction because there was nothing but the bitter self pity reminding him… There was no other reason to live – except to see the next sunrise. Then.

THEN. Just before he came to the realization that everyone didn't care – that they cared only for themselves.

Then one day - Jeff Bogard, a stranger – held out his hand to him, a man who cared – for the first time – for someone else other than HIMSELF.

Jeff Bogard – a stranger - gave him a new life.

**Was there a reason? Was there a simple reason why he did it?**

Jeff taught him what it meant to be in a family. Made him feel loved and needed. Terry didn't have to prove anything anymore, he didn't need to search anymore.

**Perhaps Jeff played some game with himself – made himself better than me?**

Perhaps the soft sensation that made us think – it was okay. It was there to make us stronger. Then as quickly as it came, it ended in bloodshed. Terry gripped his head and squeezed tightly to numb the pain and spasms. Again he was on the road he remembered. He wanted satisfaction, he wanted revenge. He was lost again. On the streets, he fought, he trained, he wanted only one thing. He wanted to prove that he was the best, he wanted to prove that he was needed. When he laid his first punch and downed his first opponent, it felt good. The feeling was ten times better than any orgasm. With every fight he felt alive, felt confident, and happy. Happy at himself. For once, he had a goal. It gave him purpose.

Then Terry stood over Geese's battered body – the man who took it all away from him. What this evil man didn't realize that his acts far surpassed ego – it far surpassed self satisfaction. When Geese killed Jeff, he had killed two men, and this – he had to pay for in kind.

**"Why? Why did Jeff do that – hold out his hand to a piece of shit like me? Why did he have to go out of his way to help a pathetic child like me?"**

Terry clutched his side, and wobbled away. Satisfied at last, but that was it. He never felt the rush again. The emptiness was inside of him, and the dirty feeling lingered like a hangover. There was no other purpose, any other fights were just ego boosters, and it made him feel worthless. So he settled down, hoping to lavish once again in the love and companionship, in the security he had been denied of since youth. In his job, the construction site, it was peaceful.

But it wasn't enough for Terry. The world was pushing him. Terry was only a lowly construction worker, never gaining any respect from those snobbish businessmen. He hated the dirty life of fighting more than sin, but he wasn't needded, he wasn't loved in this mundane world. There was only one reason, one simple reason for fighting.

**I didn't feel [IT]. I didn't feel it when I killed Geese. Then maybe Jeff's death was in vain?**

Terry's old life with his father gave him a sense of accomplishment. It made him alive. He was needed. He had to prove... Prove to everyone that he wasn't so insignificant at all. That was Terry's character. He can never be satisfied with an idle state of being. There has to be more. To conquer the world and conquer yourself.

Fighting was the only thing Terry excelled in. Everyone in the world needs something to fall on. Something only HE can do, something better than the others. Insignificant people, useless people are either happy with their simplicity, just die in disappointment, or just fade away and are never remembered.

**Jeff held out his open palm – "Punch!" Jeff said. And so – Terry did so. He punched forward, all four knuckles ramming toward his father's open palm, and beyond yours and my perception, the VIOLENT wave busted around them, dusting up the wind.**

Jeff nodded. "It was good… but," he continued, "Don't punch JUST my hand." What is important – envision what lies beyond that punch. What lies beyond me. "Punching a hand never defeated an enemy. When kicking a door down or punching an enemy envision your punch PENETRATING your enemy."

**PENETRATE YOUR ENEMY. Envision your fist going through him – "Through him. Only then YOU can step forward."**

...

The prison cell was not at all comfy. The low ceiling, the filthy walls... It made Terry feel like an animal. Terry felt his lip, blood caked it by the sides, and Terry tried to numb the stinging feeling in his gut by biting down hard, gritting his teeth. He had been in prison before. Yes. Back in the days when he'd get plastered for no good reason. Terry remembered that time as well... With Krauser. Wolfgang Krauser. Krauser had single handedly beat Terry with hardly any effort. Krauser mocked him, belittled him. For the first time in Terry's life. He was afraid. He was afraid of death, of pain, afraid of Krauser's power. Why had he suddenly changed? When it was Geese, his father's murderer he faced, he showed no fear, he battled to the end. Fuelled by vengeance.

**I did not feel IT. I did not feel the happiness that was taken away from me – from me – oh so very long ago.**

Finally, when he lost the fish game, when he lost the shooting game, when he missed all those balls. He knew. It wasn't because of death. It was because he was afraid to lose. He was afraid that he was insignificant. He was afraid that Krauser was going to take away his only happiness. His pride as a fighter. If Krauser had done that Terry was as good as dead. He had to always prove himself, since his youth. And when the time came for Krauser and Terry to exchange blows for the final time, Terry spared no mercy, he fought tooth and nail, like an animal. All for the savage instinct of supremacy. Krauser killed himself, threw himself off a cliff, because it was better than facing defeat. Terry looked at the man's falling body, and Tony laughed next to him, calling out at the fool who took his own life, but Terry knew, deep inside, he knew that Krauser was even at the end better than him. Kraser refused to show any fear till the end.

Without his fighting spirit, with his desire stripped from him at the construction site, in the real world, Terry was as good as dead. There are many people out there who are 'dead'. They do things they despise, but have no choice in the matter, because it was all forced into them, and they unconciously take it to mind, systematically brainwashed, either willfully or not.

**Was that selfish bastard, Jeff wrong then?**

Again Terry's mind hurt, he clasped it with his vise like fingers, trying to numb it. Being drunk was less painful. At least he could get to sleep. He tried to anyway. Terry lay in that pathetic excuse for a bed. Rolled and faced the wall, tried to forget anything. Sleep. It was the only true escape from the real world, although, it is true, that the irresponsible captain will have the same problems waiting for him when he wakes, there is still the sanctuary of sleep. Noone to criticize you, none to hate you, noone to love you.. nothing. Sleep. The nightmares will come and go, and so will dreams. Dreams are closer to you when you sleep. You may screw up your life, and the problems you encounter may beat you down as the day dredges on, but you sleep, and when you wake, you are still yourself.. ready to face a new day.

...

**"Wake up son. Terry, it's time to get up," He smiled. Oh how wonderful – I remember -**

There was a clang of the gates, a guard, gave Terry a sour look and called for him to get up. That face was not really what he wanted to see, first thing in the morning. He wondered to himself, did they use the telephone number he gave them. He gave them Andy's number last night. It was probably Andy who came to bail him out. Terry worried at what Andy would do. It wasn't Terry's fault he got into a fight, but what would Andy say? Andy would definitely not be so nice. If all else fails, he'd slug him for letting himself be caught by the police. Probably blame him for fighting drunk again. Whatever! Terry didn't care anymore. He didn't want to go to his job, he just wanted to stay in this cold jail forever. He wanted to go up to the guard and tell him 'I don't want to be free. I don't care anymore. **Nobody ever CARES.** Lock me up again. It's okay.' and if they didn't lock him up, he wanted to slug him, slug him so hard that they had to lock him up. He was sick and tired of everything.

"Is Andy waiting outside?" Terry asked.

"Who?"

"Andy! My brother. I gave you his number so you could call him up."

"Oh, we didn't get in touch with him."

"Then who bailed me out?" Terry asked quite curious.

"Terry-san" Tony called out when he finally saw him outside the police station.

"Tony?"

"Are you okay?" a child bade him to look past that punch.

** Are you okay?**

"I'm fine. Tony, did you bail me out?"

"Yes."

"Why? Aren't you angry with me?"

"I decided that I was wrong in forcing you to join the King of Fighters. I even got you in trouble with those guys. I didn't mean to. All I wanted was to see you fight, because I wanted to make sure that you were making the right decision in quitting."

"Where'd you get the money for the bail Tony?" Terry asked.

"It's nothing..."

"WHERE, Tony?"

"It's my money, spending money I got from work. I was supposed to rent a cheap place here."

**Was Jeff wrong? I didn't feel it then.**

**Just as you kick a door down, as you kick and punch you have to surpass it and imagine yourself penetrating that wall – only then will your PUNCH be effective – only then will you be able to unleash that fighting spirit. **

**…and if you learn this, if you can look BEYOND your target…**

Terry's composure broke, he felt for Tony, and he somehow knew that Tony wouldn't deceive him. The boy had come all this way because he was sincerely worried about Terry. It was a long time since he had felt that kind of concern, that kind of sincere admiration from someone. How many had died, had sacrificed for his sake, so that he wouldn't lose? Terry wasn't prepared to live a simple life just yet.

"I've got to get the next boat out of here, so I'll just call okay..." Tony said as he turned around.

Terry caught Tony by the arm and spun him around – even if its out of style; even if it makes me feel this way, Terry forced their eyes to meet this way. We were together here.

**…and if you learn [this]… maybe…**

"Tony," Terry began not wanting to let his sights let go. "You want to stay at my place from now on? I need someone to cheer for me when I go to the King of Fighters tournament."

**Maybe – you will understand…**

Tony smiled calmly but inside he was jumping and cheering.

Maybe you will understand why he did it. Why **Jeff** took a boy who was a [nobody] and made him feel like a [somebody]. Why for once he wanted to prove that he was more than man, and maybe more than GOD. To surpass himself, it was not just to punch through that wall… **Just as he had to envision our attack penetrating past our target – we had to look past everything that was in front of us. If you punch a fist, an enemy will NEVER topple. You had to imagine yourself plowing through that knot in your heart.**

Jeff Bogard was the PERFECT HERO. He defined this legacy of hungry wolves.

"Tony, Thank you." Terry said, and Tony just hugged him as hard as he could. Wishing noone could see them this way, their tears flowed down fearlessly – DEFIANTLY. Oh how they wished the story ended now, for the world to end just right now, because fighting had no fire.

I want to WIN the KOF. I want to become the greatest. The GREATEST the world so very…

**"I understand, Jeff…" Terry whispered. "No! I finally understand, [Dad]." Terry roared. This is the reason you held your hand out to me.**

{We will always be together.}

...

** Flattering someone you hate is just as easy as criticizing someone you admire.**

**This is the feeling that had eluded me for so long… so very long.**

...


	25. Illusions

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"  


** "There is no antidote..." The man with the Bandanna says to me.**

** {It.. it won't wash the blood away?} I say in my mind, but by the time it reaches my mouth, it is indistinguishable...**

** "Hnnn. When there is no love to act as antidote for what ails your soul, there can only be revenge, THEN there will be answers..." Said the capped man. "Such is the way of men."**

**It is indistinguishable – AND IT IS TIMELESS.**

Even if 17 years do pass…

**Chapter 25:** **Illusions**

The dreams you covet and take pride in calling your own are illusions, implanted by society to make you do as they please. From the very beginning...

...

What do you do when you finally come to the honest realization that your thoughts are not your own and the life you've been living is a large conspiracy brought out by some cynical god? What of the man made gods who pawn with everything they rule over for the sake of peace, patriotism and justice?

What of the bored man who has nothing to do with his life. Seeking his own adventure, and he who has been given too much?

Satisfaction.

Control.

God.

None of which makes any sense, because in this town, they have no definite meaning.

...

Look, it's a nice white house. With a neat fence and evenly cut green lawn. There's a paperboy, throwing the Sunday edition on my front porch. What a good shot he is, the Sunday edition twirls so smoothly and lands just at the edge of my porch. The neighbours are nice too. Look, it's Flanders, the nice Christian next-door. "Yippee dipply doolely!" He would say, as cheerful as an angel. What a lovely town.

Then I look behind me and I see a tall despicable building.. but I like it anyway. It's a seedy looking apartment tower in the middle of town. I hear a gunshot somewhere in a back alley, screams from the darkness, a place that would make even saints ever fearful. However, I still love this town. Why? I don't know.

Is that a cow's moo I hear? I turn around and it is just a pack of stray dogs fighting over some scraps, but when I return to that apartment tower, I see endless fields. Green. Then in a flash, I hear the sounds of helicopters beating. The strain on my eyes is intense, but I endure with no sign of hardship anyway. Before I realize it, I have a torch in my hand, and I can't stop myself from throwing it away, as far away from me as I can. The wooden stump twirls in the air, getting farther and farther away from me into the grassy field, then it falls down, the flames catching onto the green meadow. The flames spread insanely fast, and before I could react, the fire has found it's way back to me. The fire. It was something beyond my control, and all the destruction I have caused has come back to me.

I wish hard for it to stop, probably for concern for the meadow, but I know deep inside that it is selfishly for my own well being. I wish for water. A pail of water materializes in my hand, but before I could douse the flames, my hands are cut off. I cannot do anything to save myself. An insane laughter ensues.

The beating of drums comes again.. harder and faster.. gunshots echoing from everywhere, and I don't cover my eyes when I see men dying. It has become sick. How I can stand such things without going insane. Valor, I said to myself.. but when the bodies were shipped home.. and they hardly were.. most of the time, they were incinerated on the spot.. When they came home... they were forgotten, forcibly forgotten even.

I can never clean the blood I see on my hands. I can't do anything. Do you know why? Because I never had any say in anything I did.

Look, it's that house again.. and someone is coming out of the white house. It's my darling Sandra, come to greet me. "I have come home." I say, and she is full of joy. I drop my bag, take off my jacket, throwing away the stress I had to endure to survive, I take it off, throw it on my bag, and leave anything and everything that has to do with work, I want to get rid of it, leave it forever, until I sleep and wake up to it the following day.. To be a slave once again, but now, I don't want to be part of the outside world, so full of stress and hate; Because at home, I know that I can have a little peace of mind. I want to leave it all behind, so I do for the meantime, and I would rather not think about the time when I would have to pick that bag up again. I need love to survive, because I am selfish, and my work has no love to offer me. All my work does is suck away all the love I can hope to give. Sandra is beautiful, and I would never leave her for the world. She smells of dinner, but I don't mind, I am full of sweat from work, but she doesn't care. I love her and she loves me.

By the door, is my pride and joy. My daughter Clara is leaning by the door, with a little enigmatic smile on her face. It is an expression caught between a smile and a frown. She is probably the most mature little girl I have ever known. She comes to me slowly, with her rag doll clipped in her arms. "Dad, you're home." Clara says to me. She jumps up and takes me by the neck and I lift her up, laugh out loud and smile. Flanders is out watering his rose garden. He called out his family to say hi to me. How nice. "So, are we going to go out? I got the lead in the school play." I have no words but a sincere congratulations.. A plain gesture from me, a hug at most, and Clara doesn't say much. She doesn't even laugh or cry or do any of those sweet things, but I know deep down inside, she loves me too.

My daughter, Clara is the most mature little girl I have ever seen in my entire life. Standing there with her expression caught between a smile and a frown. Tough as hell, and she knows it. As a man, I would be proud to have a daughter like her, but as a father, I don't want her to be this way. I want her to be cheerful, emotional, and ready to shower me with affection at any given moment. Maybe it was partly my fault. With my work. I had to move them a lot from town to town, and she had to cope with that. She had to survive, be strong because she was always 'the new girl at school'. I would think that she isn't the 'tramp' type 'new girl' at school who'd go flirting with anyone to get security. No, she's MY daughter. She won't sell out. I love her.

When I don't come home from work, I know that she will be okay. I know that she will not get sad. I know she will not cry, or lock herself in her room, or refuse to eat, or have a fit. I know because she is the most mature girl I have ever seen. I would hope she cares for me when I do not come home. I am selfish though. I want all this love, but I can't help it. I never think about my family's feelings, all I care about is me, me and me! So I try to talk to her.. ask her how she feels.. and she says, "she understands". She, Clara probably understands more than my wife does. Maybe that is why I love my wife more, because I am selfish, because I know that I can turn her on with the switch on her back and she will shower me with love, but it is harder with Clara, I never really know what she's thinking.

I do know though, that one day when that letter comes... It is not a fancy letter. It is in a plain white envelope with no logos or return address, or distinctive markings. It is going to say:

'Dear PEOPLE WE DON'T CARE ABOUT,

We are sorry to inform YOU STUPID FOOLS, that THE MORON YOU CALL A HUSBAND AND A FATHER, has laid down his life for the cause he seeks to protect in our organization, SO HE'S FUCKING DEAD! He died honourably at SO AND SO BLOODY DATE AND TIME... etc. etc. etc. blah blah blah...'

Then all the legal junk and all, as well as how they will GIVE MY FAMILY A FUCKING HARD TIME to get my pension and all THAT CRAP.

BUT, I do know that Clara will shed no tears, because she understands what I have been chosen to do and have to go through. She understands and accepts it. Between us, we know that I am not trying to be selfish. I don't want her to hate me. For one brief moment though, I would pay anything to see what would go in her mind if it did happen, IF she saw and read THAT LETTER. I just want her to cry for me. I never wanted to hurt her, but I am selfish. I am human and I am selfish.. and I want her to cry for me. So I know that at least for one brief moment, I was a real person, that someone cared for me. I don't want to die alone. **I want to know that I exist** and I want to see her pain and her eternal sadness when she cries and when I die. **I don't want to die alone.**

Ironically, I DO know what THIS LETTER is doing in my hand, addressed to myself and talking about my dead family.

I love my wife, Sandra.

I love my daughter, Clara.

I don't know what is truth and fiction anymore. Moreover, I am beginning to not give a damn anymore.. because I can never enjoy the dreams or hate the nightmares.. Regardless they are both trapped in my mind. I am confused.

...

"Sir." This nurse from behind me calls out as she helps me to my wheelchair. "It's time to go to the cemetery."

{Wait, I have to wash my hands.} I yell out in my mind, but the words refuse to form in my mouth. {I have to get the blood off.}

...

"Oh, this is a beautiful picture. Say HUBBA BUBBA CHIS SNAX!" Flanders grins as he aims the camera to SHOOT.

The trigger goes out and then I see another fly fall... It was a subordinate of mine, he was a radical, he was free at heart, and so full of the fire.. he was free, but because of this he became irresponsible, and a companion got killed. Only the most sincere of men would give a fuck about their team, and I am all to blame, because I was lacking...

{WASH THIS GODDAMN BLOOD!}

I smile, and sling my left arm over my aproned wife's shoulder. With my right hand, I touch Clara's shoulder too in front of me. Clara does her enigmatic smile, and hugs her rag doll. I can never understand her. I don't need a woman in a child's body right now. I don't want an understanding little girl. I want a daughter.

...

{Ggg..eeet.. the blood away.. wash it away..} My mind erratically says, and I stutter some gibberish as the nurse tries to calm me down, and the syringe appears in her hands.

My mind breaks, it shatters like a mirror, and I see flashes. Of the apartment tower, of the field, of the screams of dying men, of some grinning Santa Claus. I see myself killing Flanders, and filing papers on my desk. I see myself drinking beer with my subordinates. Fires. The BLOOD. Then, it calms down until I can hardly hear the sounds of the cows' moos. Then I notice that nice white house I love. No matter how ugly your house may look, you still like it cause it is your safe haven. The white house, with the neat fence, the cut lawn, and then a last flash as the shutter of Flanders' camera moves in a twinkling. Then that faded picture materializes in my hand.

That picture. Of me. Of Sandra. Of Clara. Of my family. We were together – we were once upon a time – we were once happy together… the colours were bleached a faded shade to me.

{Ttthhee.. the blood... It's going away. The picture in my hand is clearing the blood.} I say in my mind. This immaculate picture won't be stained with my bloody hands. I can only hope it is real, the love.. but if the love is real, so is the horror.

...

Look. It's the grassy field. I know it is real. Cause I just know. I have my army fatigues on right now.. the pants anyway, and on top of it I have my hospital drabs. I also have bandages on my arms. The nurse is pushing me on my wheelchair. I am going towards the rock garden. The lovely peaceful cemetery.

...

"**Hiedern**, we have come to take you home, sir." A man from the side says. He has nice jet black permed hair, and has a bandanna on, and next to him is another with a blue hat and shades. Men of valor, of war.

"Let's go home, sir."

...

Epilogue:

The incessant infantile gurgles and gibberish continue to come out of my mouth, so I try to reach out to them... {HELP ME!} but the words refuse to form. I reach out and try to hug the man with the bandanna, I reach for his waist and almost fall from my wheelchair. He catches me, steadies me, and shows me that I am crumpling the picture in my hand. I cry and calm myself.

"There is no antidote..." The man with the Bandanna says to me.

{It.. it won't wash the blood away?} I say in my mind, but by the time it reaches my mouth, it is indistinguishable...

"Hnnn. When there is no love to act as antidote for what ails your soul, there can only be **revenge**, THEN there will be answers..." Said the capped man. "Such is the way of a man."

Ralf, I think that's his name.. He takes my wheelchair and pushes me away. Clark follows, but I hear some screams... It is my nurse, I think she's yelling something about WHY my men are taking me away.. For sure she'll call 'the boys' I don't want to be strapped down... I don't want to be beaten by their men... So I look to Ralf and Clark, and with my eyes, I ask them to.. help me...

"H..hh...eel..pp.." I think I was able to say.

Ralf had no answer, he just dropped the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder. The familiar sound of steel...

"Hey.. Come on!" Clark says with a familiar ring..

...

**YOU DON'T LIVE THERE ANYMORE -ebtg**


	26. Truth

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Satan's greatest trick was that he convinced the world he did not exist.**

**…but, God's greatest lie, was making his children believe – that everyone was DESTINED to fall in love. (2013 - the resolution 4:14:13 the Judas Gospel)**

**Chapter 26: Truth**

"Robert! Robert wait!" King called as loud as she could.

"Have some cake with me." King continued. "I've never blown out candles before." Her voice now a soft sweet whisper. King couldn't stop the tears from streaking her face.

Awkward as she had ever been, King stared intently at the flames, dancing on top of that cute little candle. She was clearly a grown woman, but to King it was her very first birthday. King was a bit unsure, a bit embarrassed actually as she took in a deep breath. In one throw, she watched as that flame puffed into smoke, and when she had done away with that last one, she cried a bit again. Nothing else seemed to matter now, **the rest of the world didn't matter**. It was just Robert, the cake,- and her in that park. Robert sat at the other end of the bench and clapped his hands, he smiled, his face not showing that he was indeed moved by the spectacle of King put to tears.

"I get to make a wish right?" King asked.

"I hope you made it before you blew out the candles." Robert answered.

"Ara?!" King gawked as she put her hand to her open mouth. "Oh well, let's make an exception. Can we? It was really my first time."

Robert laughed. "Sure..."

King closed her eyes and sat in deep thought for some time.

"There!" King said, then opened her sparkling eyes and smiled widely.

"Secret?"

"Hi..mi...tsu... (s-e-c-r-e-t...)" King said, rather sweet and cute Robert was keen to notice. He laughed again, and laughed harder inside. It was truly a strange sight, a different feeling to know this side of King. He wished it could always be like this.

There was the inevitable silence.. a few seconds that seemed to pass like minutes then hours, a familiar feeling like the anticipation for battle, but they both knew what it was in truth. It was probably their imagination but then, it could be real, they seemed to get closer and closer as time went on. Robert slinged his right arm on the back of the bench and leaned a bit forward. There was no obvious reaction from King, and there was no change in her smiling visage.

Robert closed his eyes, vaguely recalling that King had done the same, or had it been a figment of his imagination? Robert was trapped in a world of long denied fulfillment, and in a state of uncertainty. Then he did the stupidest thing a person could ever do. He asked himself, he rationalized for once in his pathetic pea brained life... He asked himself if he really loved King.

On normal occasions, such a scene was far from his grasp, and he had no inhibitions, and now that it was just a few inches away, he was unsure. He reached out and held King by the shoulders, more to guide him, make him more focused and keep him from 'falling', not falling down from the bench but falling in his thoughts.

"Robert..." King said in a whisper.

Robert looked at King, and her soft sad eyes penetrated him. He just sat and stared at King, not knowing what to do next. In one moment everything can happen, she can love me or she can hate me, or worse, she might do both. What if she stays like this forever? Robert realized, the fool, that this wasn't the King he fell in love with, he fell in love with the tough, cold King, the one he wanted to know the truth about, the one he wanted to change. LIES! ALL OF THEM LIES. Robert could accept anything and confused himself more.

"Robert..." Robert thought she heard her whispering "Ii desu yo... (it's okay..)"

Robert's face changed, as if he remembered something. He stood up all of a sudden and looked to the side. Hiding the look on his face. He had remembered.

{The letter...} Robert recalled.

"Dosh ta no? (what's wrong?)" She asked.

"Betsuni.. nothing..." Robert answered.

Robert held Kings hands and helped her up. Robert began to cry. He tried to hold it back with all the pride only a man could muster. His face stiffened and turned into a calm look, but water streamed from his eyes. He put his hand in his pockets and clenched a hard fist. King looked at him with concern and tried to come closer, but Robert subtlety tried to stay away.

{Goddamn it.} he thought.

"Moo, kaerimasyo ka? (Well, shall we go home?)" Robert offered, trying not to let his voice break up.

Robert didn't wait for an answer and King just held his hand and walked back like lovers to the car.

...

Offer wine to those with bitter hearts; but give beer to take away the taste of sweet lies.

Truth serum. Beer is truth serum.

Why are people so stupid, oblivious the obvious inhibitions that come with others' true feelings, more often when they don't want to accept what their hearts know as truth. Why too, are people so keen to accept the obvious lies that they are presented with, yet they know deep down inside that these lies are not what they desire.

...

Home.

La Bijoux was not as busy as it should this night, lucky for King and lucky for Yuri. King held her cake box in hands and walked next to Robert as they went up to the front door of La Bijoux. Again there was that silence. King closed her eyes and leaned towards Robert almost to her tiptoes. Robert's hands went to hers to support the cake box.

His heart beat feverishly, same went for King. They were trapped in a black box, their own world. Their world was destroyed by a voice.

"King-chan." A man's voice said.

Robert clenched his fist in his pockets and grit his teeth. {K'soo, omee ka? (Damn it, is it him?)} Robert cringed in angst. King straightened herself, and looked to the side to see a familiar face.

"...Clark-kun?" King said with a flushed face. "Y.. you're here?"

Clark, Ralf's mercenary teammate stood by the door of La Bijoux with an apron on. After straightening his shades (what in the world would you need shades in the night for though), he proceeded to wipe clean the glass he had in his hands with a white washcloth.

"Clark-kun," King began again. "What are you doing with that apron? Were you working behind the bar?"

"Hey, it's no problem." Clark answered. He combed his blonde hair with his wet fingers and proceeded to shift his stare towards Robert. King was unsure of the gesture since she could hardly see his eyes, and Clark's pokerface smile could never be trusted.

"Ah!" King stammered. "Clark-kun, this is Robert-san."

"Pleased to meet you." Clark said automatically, and extended his hand.

"Same to you Clark." Robert came back and shook his hand.

Robert tried so hard to stare Clark in the eyes, he held the shake firmly. In any way he wanted some sort of clue to Clark's character. Robert couldn't see his eyes. Were Clark's eyes, evil looking, lecherous? Were they angry, full of hatred? Were they slit and thin, eyes of a jealous man, a treacherous man? Clark's handshake was no different, it was firm yet held no answers. Robert wanted to size him up, wanted to prove to himself that Clark was weaker that he was. He wanted to appease his conscience somehow, wanted to...

Instead, Robert was lost again.

"Uh, I knew him from when we were very little. My father knows him, he is going to work here for a while, maybe help you out as bouncer, Dad said that..." King stammered.

"Oh, I kn..." Robert began but stepped back. "...It's okay..."

"You know, that girl you had in there? Yuri was it? She's in the den right now. She didn't look too good. Think she drank too much. The other girls took care of her job and I helped out so there was no problem." Clark said.

"WHAT!" King called out. "Is she still there? I need to talk to that.."

"Wait." Robert interrupted King, holding her by the shoulder. "I'll take care of her." With that, he left King and crossed paths with Clark.

Robert walked at a smooth pace and the instant that he passed Clark, Robert's pupils rushed to the corner of his eye. Everything went black and a thin flash of light penetrated them both, like a bullet. Everything slowed down and heartbeats served as the only theme song. A million thoughts crossed Robert's mind, and presumably the same for Clark.

Robert couldn't see Clark's eyes, but Clark could [see] Robert's' very well.. The windows to the soul, it would take the greatest of actors or the lowliest of scum to hide the expression in one's eyes. There was pain, hate, anger, concern, and yet a faint hint of love in Robert's eyes.

He wanted to know if this man could take care of her when he would...

...

Robert finally came to the den. He wasn't angry or anything of the sort. More concerned about Yuri's state. She wasn't known for losing control like this and now the other waitresses had told Robert that she had gotten drunk over something, and asked him to see if she was still okay. Robert asked them if she had gone to the bathroom yet. They shook their heads. Great. Just.. great.

The door creaked open a little.

"Yuri-chan?" Robert called out to the darkness. It took a while for Robert's eyes to focus, but he could clearly see the moon outside the window. THAT window. There was no answer. Robert tried to carefully walk over to the closed bathroom door. He knocked a few times softly.

"Yuri-chan? You in there?" he said.

SHOCK – SENSATION

Then suddenly Robert felt someone behind him, a hug. It was a feeling he knew. It was Yuri sobbing and Robert could faintly tell what that feeling was pressing on his back.

"Yuri-san, button up your shirt..." Robert said in an uneasy tone, almost like a question.

"Robert-kun..." Yuri mumbled. "Welcome back. How was your day with King?"

"It went okay. We went to the park and she liked the clothes you and your brother bought."

"Yokatta ne (that's good..)." She whispered.

"Yuri, what happened tonight? You were supposed to work. Why'd you drink?"

Yuri broke into uncontrollable sobs after that. **"Don't leave me!"**

"Yuri?"

"Robert-kun, don't leave me, please... I love you."

And thus the Bizarre love pentagon was drawn. "You're drunk!" Robert tried to show some control. "Damn it..."

"SHUT UP, Robert-kun!" Yuri yelled. "**I love you**, don't you understand?!"

Robert looked at Yuri straight at the face, trying as hard as he could not to let his vision go astray. Yuri had her shirt open, nothing to hide from the imagination, and her eyes, they were serious. On normal occasions, the scene would destroy all reason in Robert, but too much had happened tonight already. Such a strange moonlit night. Robert walked to Yuri and tried to button up her shirt.

Why do so many people have to be hurt with the Bizarre Love Pentagon. Love? LIES. Damn all those love stories and all those stupid movies. All they do is put these damn thoughts of a perfect love in people's minds.

Yuri threw herself at Robert and hugged him tight, fearing to let go.

"I'll do anything. Just don't leave me for King. I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything I did, how I acted." Yuri cried.

It was all coming apart, noone would ever be the same from this night on. The house of cards had come apart at the base. All their wishes of a simple life are over because of this failed love. When they meet again the next day, would everything be the same or will it all change? Robert didn't want to see into the future. He just wanted to live for today, for right now. He held Yuri tight. Yuri knew amidst her intoxicated state that this would never work. She beat her fists on Robert's chest venting out all her frustrations and regrets. **Nothing is more expensive than regret in this life.** Love is free but the regret that spawns from it, is without price. She beat down on Robert's chest until she was tired and she succumbed to the futility of her actions. Robert just hugged her. Trying his best to soothe her.

"I'm sorry, Yuri. I really do love King." Robert said.

With the truth laid out in the open, there was nothing else to be said. Yuri might not remember any of this tomorrow, but she will know the truth inside of her and every waking hour she sees Robert she will know it inside. All that Robert could do was be there for Yuri, when she falls from grace. The dark room, the empty walls were there once again, to serve as the silent observers to the people who play actors in this twisted drama.

...

The light stinged Robert's eyes. He looked pitifully at Yuri, bent over by the toilet vomiting it all out. All her courage, all her suppressed affections, **all the truth**. Robert leaned behind Yuri and patted her on the back to get the poison out from inside her.

The ordeal finally over, Yuri knelt with her knees on the floor and her feet to the side. Her legs made a sort of arrow shape. She breathed in and out slowly. The real world finally crept into her, and when she looked up from her groggy state she realized that she was looking at Robert. Robert's face was calm but his tears were there. Yuri succumbed to the shame and put her face in her hands. Yuri cried, because of the hate, because of the regret, of the shame, but more because of he knew deep inside that she...

"Did you read all of King's letter?" Robert asked, more to himself. "We have noone to blame for his than ourselves. There is noone else to blame... is there?"

...

["Well, you know that my dad wanted to raise me as a boy, I guess." King said and Robert nodded lightly. "Well, there was this boy, blonde, and my dad was very fond of him."

King told Robert the story. Her father treated this boy like his son, her father trusted him with King, probably wanted him to rub off his traits onto King, but first and foremost, he wanted this boy to protect his daughter because he doubted that she could take care of herself]

Robert remembered those words, and he thought back to King's letter. So finally, the man from her past has finally come. How could Robert go against an arranged marriage? It gave Robert enough courage to take King out on the date, but it was a sort of 'last fling' because Robert knew that when Clark finally came, he could no longer make any advances, even joked ones while he was around. It had turned out for the worse. Robert had realized that he truly loved King and it made the separation more painful. The only thing for Robert to do was get away, why fight a battle with odds so stacked against you?

...

"Well? How is she?" King asked as Robert stepped outside to where Clark and she were talking.

"She's fine. It's over... It's over..." Robert said, as he walked away to his car. "I'll be taking a little vacation okay?"

"Eh? What?! Robert-san?" King tried to follow.

"It's okay, Clark will cover for me, I need to do something."

King didn't say another word. It was a sort of silent understanding. In the back of King's mind she somehow figured that Robert had read the letter. King felt a little ashamed, leaving the letter out in the open, indirectly inviting Robert to read it because she couldn't do it herself. She wasn't strong enough to destroy the relationship that night, that night with the cake... when she realized that she was a real person, a real woman with real feelings after all.

Yuri ran out, tried to keep her balance as she went to Robert. Her hands on his car's ledge…

"Robert,.. you're leaving?" She asked the question she knew the answer to.

"Yeah..." he answered softly as not to let King hear.

"Will you be back?"

"Don't know. Don't worry, you'll have Clark to cover me."

"NO! THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Yuri shouted, attracting the curious looks of both Clark and King.

"Yuri..."

"You **love her** don't you?" she said silently.

Robert didn't answer, and just got in his car. Yuri held onto the door and tried to stop him. **"[You]'ve got to fight it, then."**

"It's over..."

Robert turned the key and started his engine. Yuri couldn't say anything more and mumbled something... Something about thanking Robert for not taking advantage of her. She was going to say again that she loved him, but she stopped in mid sentence.

The car drove away.

THE BIZARRE LOVE PENTAGON.

Epilogue:

I don't think it will end just yet.

...


	27. The Welcome Return of Friends

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 27: The Welcome Return of Friends**

Who are you that slips into my robot body, and whispers to my ghost.

-Ghost in the Shell

...

YOU CAN NEVER DIE. (the ultimate high)

...

Kyo ran with his left elbow leading, his scream grew louder the closer he got to Iori, for a moment he wasn't scared anymore. He fueled his pride and confidence with his anger, and that was the least he could do. He VOWED that he would never allow the fear to overcome him again, eversince [that] time. and, So he became vain, he became proud, and in this way he could mask all his fear, and noone need know about his insecurity.

Eiji. Billy. Kyo. Iori.

The park.

"Kuresento Surashyu!" Kyo called...

** KOI! KOII YO!**

"KOI! (come!)" Iori answered in a voice evil, echoing, hollow and otherworldly... He moved his palm towards himself, inviting Kyo's attack, prodding him on with maniacal laughter.

Kyo put all his weight into the elbow smash, aiming dead center into Iori's chest, hoping to catch him off guard. A futile hope. Iori's left palm was already there waiting, and he caught Kyo's elbow as if it were a slow baseball. Iori threw the elbow up, Kyo barely caught himself and followed up with a burning right claw right up to Iori's chin. Kyo felt skin, a reassuring sensation he thought, he got ahold of Yagami's throat. With all the stregth he could muster, Kyo tried to hoist Iori up and finish him of with a sudden explosion of his Crescent Slash.

The moment was stolen from Kyo when Iori reacted at the same speed as him. A fearless counter - Iori's left palm slithered over Kyo's arm, and gripped onto Kyo's face like a parasite. Ever so hungry, the fingers bore deeper and deeper into Kyo's skull, making Kyo wince at the increasing pressure. Caught in a state of uncertainty, Kyo couldn't execute his move and blew flames to nothing... His confidence had failed him that time. Iori sneered, and in a smooth motion, he grabbed Kyo's strangling wrist, wrapped around the wrist, his own thumbs contorted downwards, with Iori's thumb facing Kyo. Kyo's fingers snapped free from the throttle and Iori heaved in Kyo's head as if he was going to yank it off. Kyo stepped in to decrease any damage. Iori smiled evilly, he twirled around, making his back face Kyo, and with a heave of his right hand, he pulled Kyo's wrist in, pressing Kyo's chest onto his back, a manner it was not meant to bend. With a roar, Iori threw Kyo over his shoulder. Kyo instinctively lifted himself up, to go with the flow of the throw, he flew over Iori and landed head first into the ground.

A cold feeling followed as the blood quickly rushed into Kyo's head. A nice, cool feeling which was followed by a painful sting and a bludgeoning pain. Before Kyo could realize he had his back pitifully on the ground, Iori was on him again. Kyo felt the fingers dig into his skull once again. Again, Kyo was picked up like a rag doll.

"Keh! JA MADA! (HEH! OUT OF MY WAY!)" Iori mocked.

Iori picked Kyo up and threw him to the side as if he were some roadblock, some old doll noone cared for anymore. Kyo flew and fly he did callously, to the back of his head thundering to a merciless tree behind him. The world became red as his blood streamed down his face.

What followed was a steady stream of laughter, a laughter only a madman would call, it was condenscending, evil... Undescribable. Iori's spasms continued as if he were feeling an immense rush, clogging him from any other thought other than death and destruction.

"I'll KILL YOU!" Iori sneered. "SHINE KOZO! (Die, you BRAT!)" and with that he lunged for a finishing pass, his fingers ready to sink in.

From the crimson haze, the world suddenly came back to Kyo. He was really in a fight for his life. Kyo tumbled to the side, successfully dodging the attack, Iori's fingers tore into the tree intead. Kyo marvelled at the deep, long slashes left on that tree trunk, this lunatic wasn't playing around.

"DON'T CALL ME A KID, DAMN IT!" Kyo screamed. Noone would dare look down on me again.

Iori's reaction was equally fast, he slithered like a serpent towards Kyo. Kyo received a hit in the belly, which forced him to instinctively throw himself out of Iori's way, and luckily for him, those hungry fingers missed him once more. This was his chance. Kyo reached for iori's collar. Iori answered, he in turn grabbed Kyo's shoulders. Each took turns trying to break each others' grip, slapping away at each others' wrists, finding new openings to grapple and replying in kind by slithering under each other's arms, knowing that if someone were to get the upper hand the loser would easily go down. THIS to me, was a conversation only privately held – within a silent time – between two lovers.

"Idiot! What can a fresh peon like you do to even harm me?" Iori spoke.

"Bastard! You killed my father, you're not going to make a fool out of me again." Kyo came back.

"Who the hell are you talking about, I can't begin to count how many people I've killed. I just want to kill EVERYBODY."

"You goddamn..." Kyo's anger increased a hundredfold. "URAAAAAAAA!"

"HAHAHA! You stupid humans, you're all so selfish, all thinking of your own personal agendas..."

"SHUT UP WITH YOUR GODDAMN RUBBISH!"

**RUBBISH – KEEP your WEAPONS UP. MONSTERS!**

Kyo finally got a hold of Iori's jacket once again, he anticipated that Iori would let go and release from their grappling dance and attack for his collar which was open, and at the last moment, Kyo stepped to the side and heaved with all his might. Iori's claws missed their… There was a valiant yell and Iori was in the air.

"JUST SHUT UP!" Kyo said again as Iori sailed in the air. "DON'T LAUGH AT ME!"

Kyo felt as if the veins on the side his neck were about to explode at the pressure as he threw that evil above and over his shoulder, but he sure, HE WAS SURE as hell wanted to fucking PILEDRIVE Iori's face into the ground. Remove that incessant, bitter smirk from his enemy's face… Fuck you. JUST… just FUCK. FUCK. YOU.

Eiji was whizzing through the foliage and stopped in his tracks to witness the spectacle unfolding in front of him. {IoRi!?} Eiji thought with one eye bigger than the other. {Masaka... (impossible)} Eiji couldn't believe that he was seeing such an insignificant as this brat heave Iori over his shoulder.

Moreover, Iori, who was under the influence of Hakai - the ultimate will of destruction.

Iori's hands reached out and found their way to Kyo's head. The sudden rush of confidence became dread and doubt all of a sudden. Kyo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyeballs away from those menacing fingertips. Iori was able to grab onto Kyo's headband instead. At that instant of doubt, Iori was able to flip over and land feet first, never the less, the momentum was so strong that Iori skidded 5 meters away from Kyo.

"Kusooo BAKEMONO KA!? (Damn it, you're a monster!?)" Kyo screamed.

He was answered once again by inceassant laughter. "I HATE people. I HATE THEM ALL. All with their pathetic bickering and their selfish attitudes. HATE THEM! But most of all I HATE your kind.. So bold and riteous, using 'justice', so empty and..."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"

Kyo didn't want to wait for an answer. He leapt into the air, breaking his ties to the earth. He wasn't insignificant he wasn't a loser, he won't lose, and such conviction is what makes man able to do the impossible. Kyo arched his back to the limits of the human body, and came down with a double handed hammer, each hand in the other. Kyo's fists came down hard slamming into the bridge of Iori's nose. Iori couldn't help let out a very faint whelp, Kyo followed with a fast punch to the chest before he was even certain that his feet had touched the ground. He swung his torso to the side as he made the jab, giving him more leverage and cock for his following upper with the opposite hand. Kyo's left upper first felt Iori's firm throat, then proceeded to send Iori's chin up. Iori didn't step back, Kyo hopped up into the air once again and led with his right kick, sending Iori up a few inches off the ground, the Kyo followed with the other foot, refusing to let Iori down. Kyo ended with another upper into Iori's lungs which made Iori hit the tree behind him. Iori stood in a slump, using the tree as a ballast.

"You're not dead yet?!" Kyo shouted. "KURAYE! (Eat this!)"

Kyo's hands burst into flame, glowed brighter and brighter, then he let it go all at once. The hungry fire demon made its way scampering, rushing, ravaging on the ground hungry for Yagami blood. It tore through the soil, sending rock, sand, dried leaves and debris up towards Kyo. Eiji focused on the boy, and his vision came up from Kyo's stare onto his bare forehead. There was a tatoo of some sort there... from a distance it looked like a flower or a sun. Eiji was too familiar with it.

"Kusanagi..." Eiji growled as if he had uttered a curse.

Iori stood unmoving. He just leaned onto the tree as if he were a plank of wood. Leaning there, helpless, waiting, smiling slit eyes closed - SMILING as if nothing will EVER change. Kyo's mind shouted out.. {DIE DIE DIE.. Just a little more}. Then Iori's eyes opened, and Kyo stood back. A feeling of dread akin to an experience one would gain upon witnessing a cadavre open his eyes again.

"AHO! (fool)"

**AHO!**

Iori bellowed, his feet started to glow purple and the flames, shaped like a serpent materialized from the dancing fire, circling around his feet, his legs, protecting Iori like a barrier. The purple and yellow flames cancelled each other out.

Kyo couldn't believe. His feet were FIRMLY ON THE EARTH and he couldn't believe.

Before his mind could comprehend the turn of the tables, Iori was walking towards him at a calm demeanor. Such a wicked smile. The crimson ran down the side of his smile, and he licked it up slowly. Iori stopped when he was right in front of the stunned, unmoving Kyo. He reached out and held Kyo's head in his hands and made Kyo's eyes face his. Warmly Iori's palms caressed Kyo's cheeks in a familiar way, prodding his enemy's chin upwards so that their eyes would meet in their own world. Within seconds Iori's fingertips had found the hollow points on Kyo's head.

"Well... are you scared now? You've used up so much energy..." Iori cooed.

Iori firmly had his fingers in place and pushed Kyo's head to wood. Kyo didn't move and stared blankly. Iori put his face right in front of Kyo mockingly. Like a sneering butcher would have on his dumbfounded lamb.

Small trickles of blood slowly oozed down from Iori's fingertips, the dreaded bludgeong slash – WILD FEVERISH cuts made by soft, rounded fingertips roaring for life. Iori put his face closer and licked the blood up from Kyo's cheeks.

"It's been a long time since I have tasted the blood of your kind Kusanagi..." Iori said. "It's time to finish you, their champion, and have my revenge for my defeat..."

"todomeda (it's the end)... Kyo-kun." Iori whispered like a viper.

Iori's thumbs trraced the edge of Kyo's lips and found their way millimeters from the bottom of his eye sockets and slowly pushed in. Kyo was in a trance, his eyes experiencing REM, rapid eye movement, his brain told him this was all a bad dream, and his speech was only mumbles and faint gurgles. Slowly the pressure increased, and Kyo started to convulse slowly.

...

"YAROU! (Bastard!) Matte! (WAIT!)" Eiji screamed.

Eiji was cut off by a familiar screech. The British Boy!

RUBBISH.

"Captain Bannanna, and a Kangaroo sidekick, ULTIMATE MEGATON SUPERTOP DROP KICK!" Billy screached in his irritating voice.

Billy appeared from a branch high above and came descending to Kyo and Iori. Billy felt such a rush in his drop, the colours of the background him swirled and the environment warped into monochrome speed lines. Billy's hands snapped out in an eagle spread out, he threw his right palm out and in the same instant folded his left arm behind his back. In a flash, his multi piece Bo (staff) was in his hand. Billy flicked his wrist and swang the Bo over his shoulders, it spun around his back, his waist and finally caught it in his right hand. It was spinning now, the Bo, like a helicopter's propeller. Billy's foot was leading the way, down to his victim.

Eiji's eyes widened.

"Get this, IORI!" Billy shouted.

...

Billy's foot came crashing down, making the earth within a 5 meter radius tremble. Billy stood up and looked around... {eh} he wondered...

Iori was still in place, mashing Kyo like a rotten tomato, and Billy just stood in stance a meter away from them. He missed. The SD, comedy relief crows flew by one by one in slow motion, cawing their insulting calls. Billy turned superdeformed and a sweatdrop rolled down his temple. {Well...} Billy thought spaticically.

...

"Iori..." Eiji spoke firm and hard, once he had recovered from his super deformed state. "You'll kill him damn it. IS that what you want?"

Iori stopped instantly and froze, he swung his head to the side to gaze upon Eiji who was right behind him. Iori's head swiveled like a robot, and his eyeballs rushed to the side. He let out a condenscending grin.

"Who are you? PEON!?" Iori snarled and snikkered.

An intimidating purple flame radiated from Iori, Eiji was on his guard again, but more because of the faint yellow glow he could see.

"Omee wa Yagami jya nai! (You're not Yagami)" Eiji spat out.

"What are you talking about..." Iori replied. "I am Iori, I am Kyo, I am an angel, I am the devil, I am you, I am me, I am a god, I am anyone I please! Do you want to fight too?! I will give you your own time once I have done off with this Kusanagi shit."

"Kusanagi..." Eiji whispered again. {Kaori Kusanagi...} Eiji remembered the name, he couldn't forget. {Don't think lowly of me if I don't save him.}

Eiji stood his ground and showed no signs of retaliation.

Iori laughed again, and continued to say Kusanagi Kusanagi Kusanagi, first full of hate then gradually shifting his tone into a mocking one, as if he were insulting Eiji. The top of Kyo's shirt, the part by his shoulders was drenched more of blood than with sweat now. Only Eiji could see the yellow flames glowing brighter, slowly shifting form from flame to demon.

"KAORI!" Eiji screamed.

{EIJI} Eiji heard a familiar woman's voice.

"IORI!" Eiji screamed again.

"Eh..." Iori spat out all of a sudden.

Eiji dashed and was upon him. The swift ninja wedged his left hand in between the lovers to death, Kyo x Iori and placed it firmly at the side of Iori's wrist, Eiji cocked in his fingers and snapped using the middle of his fingers into a nerve in Iori's wrist. The shock made Iori's left hand flinch and ease his grip on Kyo. Eiji proceeded and grappled Iori's right hand by sliding his fingers in between Iori's fingertips and Kyo's face. Eiji had most of his hand covered by cloth but the exposed flesh tore and blood spewed. Eiji forced himself between Kyo and Iori, he elbow smashed Kyo back as far as he would go until realizing that the tree was behind him, he might've broken a few ribs there indeed. Eiji changed his motion and used the same elbow to dig into Iori's abdomen, and when Iori flinched a bit, it gave Eiji enough room to fold his legs and deliver a turning kick into Iori that made Yagami stumble back a few steps.

"You bastard! You're not Yagami! Iori wouldn't kill for no reason." Eiji said. A peaceful wind violated the stillness of the air around them…

"Fool! You know nothing of me!" Iori retaliated. "Very well, you leave me no choice, but I'll have to deal with you first."

"Jesus, hold it you goddamn morons!" Billy stepped in. "You've all gone bannannas!"

Billy swiped his staff to the side repeatedly, trying valiantly to hit that same poor tree blindly to emphasize his point, but he couldn't hit any, he looked to the side, found none, and hit the ground instead. "What in the name of Jesus Mary and Jos..."

Noone was paying attention to him. Eiji and Iori were still in deep stares.

"ARGH! SOMEONE LISTEN TO MEEEE!"

"Very well, -FEEL- THIS BODY'S POWER!" Iori bellowed.

The purple flames mixed with the yellow glow. Eiji tucked his fists in, he had no more choices.

"OROKAMONO (stupid idiot)!" Eiji said suddenly for making him go to these heights. Heights noone but [we], and just us here, where we - dared to soar.

.Instantly. our gazes went skywards – above the clouds, the sky, the moon and atmosphere – just, just as we propelled our eyes to the Earth waiting for us THERE.

Eiji tucked some of his fingers, folded others in and stretched out the rest in some weird fashion, shot them out, cocked them in before crossing his arms, and growled inwards, summoning up strength. Eiji began a low groan.

"S K H S!" He chanted random words almost in question.

Billy watched in awe as Eiji's eyes rolled back, or did they fade into a milky white. Neither Iori nor Billy could see the yellow aura seep out from the earth and surround Eiji in a soft birght golden hue. The wind began to get chilly and the sky began to get cloudy, and IT began. Eiji spasmed, he felt the familiar aura seep into his body, swrling chaosY in a TV static then peacefully, souls mixing in with his.

HAKAI (DESTRUCTION amongst deapair)

Hakai once again.

Eiji trembled in a cold sweat. It had been a while since he had done this, and neither was it a pleasant feeling. It felt cold inside, and empty. A death's chill. But in a perverse way, there was a primal urge in him that enjoyed it. A long denied climax, where he could let go of any warmth, any of the ties that bound him to this world. No more **PAIN**, no more problems, no more lost love... Everytime he did this, and he learned not to do it often, he felt colder and colder, less human. He feared that one day, he couldn't revive from his Death, the ultimate high. Or worse, lose the will to continue living.

...

"We live a dangerous life don't we, Eiji-kun..." Eiji remembered Kaori Kusanagi say when she was still living.

The pair had eloped, definitely against the will of her father, Yoshiki Kusanagi. It was much a hard life but they were living a dream, and no dream is sweeter fulfilled than that so hard to win, that one had to fight for...

"Do you love me? Eiji?" Kaori asked as she continued her chores, sweeping the leaves around their simple hut in the forests.

"I love you, more than anything..." Eiji replied.

"Darling, I know that my father is a vengeful man... a man of justice and order. Such is the way of the Kusanagi, it has become like a reign, warping, restraing the minds of all the Kusanagi males and leaders for centuries. I know that he wouldn't hesitate to kill his own daughter in the name of justice... If that day comes... **When that day comes...**"

"Don't talk garbage... I will protect you with my life!" Eiji stood up from his squat and embraced his wife.

"He will get me, he always gets his way."

"THEN I WILL AVENGE YOU!" Eiji shouted forcefully.

"No..." Kaori said softly. "I don't want anymore bloodshed, it was my fault. I am the daughter at fault. Parents are always right, they are never wrong. They do the things they do out of love of order, fairness... I was always at fault... Do not avenge me. When they get me, let the bloodshed stop. Run away."

Eiji held her tighter, and didn't want to think of the day he might see himself digging her grave.

"I know you love me.. As a man, a husband and a shinobi, you have to avenge me to prove your love for me.. but please, I don't want any more..." Kaori whispered again. "I will **NEVER** think less of you if you run away because a **woman** told you to do so."

To stop the endless chain once again...

"Eiji..." Kaori said. "Promise me you will not take your life. Promise me this, and I will know that I have left no hate in this world in my time."

"I.. Promise..."

...

This pact was the only thin lifeline that could bring him back to the light...

"I promise..."

Being DEAD is a different kind of feeling, where your only purpose was the last thing you thought of when you were alive. It was to fight once again.. that was Eiji's goal now, to save both Iori and Kusanagi, despite his legs feeling weak, knees buckling from the strain. Everytime he did Hakai, he found his soul farther and farther away from the light that guided him from the living world, and he feared that one day he might not find his way back. Was it such a bad thought? To leave the world behind? This time he did it on purpose, without a strong enough conviction, no death no sorrow, no feeling of revenge, would he succumb to it like Iori had? He had no choice now, it was the only sure way he could get Iori back from his strange world.

…and as suddenly – and as VIOLENTLY as it began, smooth two worlds. Those spiked hairs on Eiji's head danced. A YELLOW glow inviting all challengers to defy something beyond the CHAINS of this earth. It is just for the both of us. RIGHT here right now. Blood tipped fingers for all of us outstretched from his body welcoming all enemies – all monsters. From his slump, Eiji's face slowly and purposely tilted upwards in a result we all came to understand. Eiji looked up from that slumped darkness. He looked up snobbishly, as if the WORLD around him was nothing more than a piece of SHIT. A PIECE of SHIT that would one day find its way to the Earth.

He welcomed it.

"It's cold isn't it.." Eiji mumbled... "Welcome back my friends..." Eiji's voice broke into a hollow echoing multiresonating tone.

...

そんな寒い世界なのだ。おかえり、トモヨ。


	28. Unrequited son

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

**Chapter 28: Unrequited son**

"I used to think the day would never come, that my life would end with the morning sun."

-New Order

The resu**l**t of l**ov**e can only be determined from the initial **e**ncounter...

.(is it time to die?)

...

"Yes, you called... Boss?" He said bowing low, with his lower arm parallel to his waist. He uttered nothing else and stood in silence, waiting for his superior to address his presence. The young fair skinned man stood calm, without a crease in his black suit. For good measure he coolly tipped his 'blues brothers' hat so the shadow of the brim would shade his eyes. Ironic, having sunglasses in an already, almost pitch black room.

Cigar smoke fogged the room almost completely, making the small amount of light seeping through the blinds look like specters. He didn't move.

"He's taking too many risks." Geese uttered to his subordinate. "There's been a change of plan. I am sure you know of it already?"

"Yes, I do."

"That's what I like about you... You're so sharp.. quick.. uh.. the word... Vigilant?"

"Shrewd probably, sir." He replied to Geese.

Geese smirked and spit out what seemed like a laugh of approval. The man didn't think any of it funny at all.

"Anyway..." Geese continued.

"I will take care of Billy."

"Yes, why don't you do that... People like that are so imbecilic and vestigial without proper guidance."

"Of course. I know EXACTLY what you mean… Geese... vestigial..."

"What would I do without people like you..." Geese said.

"Yes..." He said under his breath.

...

Billy tried as hard as he could to stay conscious.. How long had the fight between Eiji and Iori had lasted? Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour? Billy couldn't remember anymore… He was more concerned with his own well-being. It was late in the evening but the tireless combatants were still at it. Inside Billy he cursed both Iori and Eiji because no one would even help him, but Billy couldn't blame either of them. They were too busy fighting their own useless battles. There is no one to help you. Everyone else is always on their own glorious crusade. It always boils down to selfish desires in this town.

Billy was able to prop himself up on THAT tree, and just sat there, trying to keep his eyelids open despite the throbbing pain tempted him to give in. Billy looked to his right hand. He held his stick firmly, it was his security blanket, no one could harm him, he was always safe with it. Billy grinned; he didn't care about anybody else anymore. His weapon was more trustworthy than any other scum on earth. He didn't have to share it, it was his, and his alone, and it wouldn't betray him, it wouldn't let him down.

Billy was in a haze and didn't even realize that the damp feeling he thought was sweat was actually blood. Billy's face was red and caked.

There was no way in hell Billy could've dodged that blow. So swift and sure... There was no hint of restraint at all. Iori didn't hold back that mauling barrage. Billy laughed and remembered the time he had ORDERED Iori not to hold back in their initial meeting, yet Iori held back. Billy's view of Iori changed then, he couldn't understand what went on inside that madman's head. Well, Billy guessed that he finally got his wish. He was probably near death. What a way to die, the thought of your insignificance beating into your cranium... is tis it? Is it time to die?

...

The resu**l**t of l**ov**e can only be determined from the initial **e**ncounter... ...and...

...

{Why Iori? What the fuck is wrong with you?!} Billy thought to himself. Billy didn't understand a single word Eiji had said, didn't know what the hell was going on with Iori. Billy only assumed that this was the true Iori and Billy had become insignificant. Yagami was only getting rid of a nuisance.

How many ribs had he broken because of that attack? Billy clawed the side of his torso gingerly, trying not to further antagonize the pain. Who knows? The pain was over Billy's threshold so it didn't matter if Iori would come back and stomp on him to break some more. How many times had he saved Iori? How many times had he staked his life for his sake? Too many times, but Iori probably dismissed it as 'Billy's ignorance'. This pained Billy more, probably more than the bruises and cuts on his battered body.

THAT tree felt comfortable, even though it was studded with bumps and splinters. It felt nice. Pain is such a nice feeling that helps you focus on things that are really important to you. When you're high on joy, your mind is completely oblivious to matters of consequence.

The dazzling spectacle in front of Billy was slowly becoming hazy as he succumbed to the pain. Then Billy could only see a figure coming towards him...

"Daddy... Have you come to take me home?" Billy wheezed before he fainted.

...

Lucky's eyes almost popped out from their sockets. Billy collared him with both hands and threw Lucky over his shoulders, towards Eiji's seat. As expected, Eiji was already in the next seat, avoiding the throw, anticipating it before Billy even lay hands on Lucky's collar. Eiji sat cross-legged and stuck one of those thin Chinese pipes into one of the holes of his hockey mask. Occasionally, puffs of smoke exited through the other holes. Eiji stared disappointedly at Billy; Billy, not wanting to lose any more sanity, walked off.

"Idiot..." Eiji puffed.

"At least I don't settle my problems by running away."

Yes, Billy remembered the scene... It was at that football game. Barbaric sport. He had spent some time in the stadium to try and forget about Iori, but he was surrounded by fools wherever he went. Billy hated fools. Hates them with a passion. Sometimes maybe it is because of his own complex. He can't bear to accept how people mock him because of his fiery disposition; how he would rise up to any challenge no matter how high the odds were stacked up against him. Is it bravery, ambition, desire, or just plain stupidity? Billy hates stupidity. Billy hates stupid people.

It was a clear sunny day. Was it? The dismissal bell would ring in a few hours, so he thought of dredging back to the kindergarten, he had nothing else better to do. Maybe his students would overwhelm Iori and he could witness the sight. Billy flashed a grin. He felt for the apple in his huge overall pockets and increased his pace back, forgetting about those moronic sportsmen and that blasted Eiji.

"Billy." Came a voice from the side.

Billy turned around slowly, recognizing the voice all too well. There stood a man leaning on his side next to a tree, covered by the shade. The figure was dressed in a black suit, and sported a tilted 'blues brothers' hat that hid his spectacled eyes. The man snickered for no apparent reason. Billy looked at his feet and he was standing in the sun. Billy was dressed in ragged overalls, sweaty and was baking in the sun, while his counterpart was relaxed, calm and collected in the shade, with his spiffy outfit. Billy knew he was overreacting, paranoid at most, but he still couldn't dismiss the thought.

"What do you want Hopper?" Billy snapped back smugly.

"I have a message for you from Geese." Hopper replied, now standing up straight.

"What does the boss want?"

"Oh.. the old fart just told me to tell you to watch your step." Hopper said slyly.

"You call the man who puts those goddamn clothes on you fucking ass 'old fart'?" Billy replied instinctively.

"I believe the topic of the conversation here was you, Billy." Hopper was quick to reply with a thin smile.

"Keh! Well, spit it out!"

"You're too immersed in your job, Billy..." Hopper began. "You've been taking too many risks for Yagami's sake."

"That is none of your business you stupid pencil pusher. I'm just doing my job."

"Sigh..." Hopper said as he faked a hurt look. "Must all our meeting start like this, Billy-dear...?"

Billy calmed down, he was being played for a fool again. How easily people like him are toyed with. Both with words and by force. Billy closed his eyes and began again.

"I'm sticking to the job." Billy reassured Hopper.

"Which is?"

"I'm protecting Iori. I have to use him to mole into Rugal's Blacknoah, get the firing keys and the blueprints." Billy said. "What is this KOF 101?"

"No this isn't a pop quiz, Billy. You would need one though." Hopper easily threw back the remark. "There's been a change of plans. Geese doesn't desire the power of Blacknoah anymore."

"Eh?" Billy said sincerely confused. "You mean Geese found something more lethal than nuclear warheads?" Goddamn it, there's going to be more deaths?

"All you need concern yourself with now… No, let me start again, I don't want you to plague me with your dumb questions later." Hopper said not even taking the effort to look Billy in the eye. Billy tried his best to hold it in. "Continue on as planned, accompany Iori to Rugal, but forget about the firing keys. MAKE SURE Iori defeats Rugal, then, KILL Iori."

Billy looked shocked all of a sudden.

"What the hell are you talking about!? Geese told me I had to protect Iori, not butcher him." Billy knew he was being toyed with now, and he couldn't stop his fists from involuntarily clenching. Billy held it in again, and decided to make it onto a joke. Yeah, a joke, all problems, all tight moments can be solved with jokes. Billy always thought this. "Heh.. Haha! How does Geese expect me to even scratch Yagami? I am SURE Geese has a lot of faith in me, but the boss can't be that stupid." Billy said sarcastically, all the while chuckling.

Hopper dug into his side pocket and exposed a jet-black metal case, and pulled out some black Sampoerna Clove cigarettes. Billy followed the smooth movement of Hopper's left hand, and the instant his lips touched the gold trimmed filter, Hopper flicked his right hand. A glint of light flashed from his sleeves and before Billy could realize that it was a lighter, the cigarette was belching light blue smoke. Hopper took a few puffs, which gave a sweet smell. Hopper ignored Billy for a few minutes.

After a while Hopper's hand crept into his coat and pulled out a plastic gun. A Glock 29. It was a small, but powerful firearm. The piece looked and felt like a toy gun, but the 10mm shells would make any corpse think twice... If it had the chance in the afterlife.

"Here." Hopper grunted as if he were talking to a noisy brat. "You've got 7 shots. Getting this gun from the black market was tough. The bullets cost a fortune." Hopper laughed again out of the blue. "I guess Iori's life is worth more than dime bullets eh?" Hopper straightened up again. "I don't think the geezer is that senile yet. Seven bullets, 2 for Iori, 2 for Eiji MAYBE 2 for Rugal, and the last one for yourself.. IF needed ofcourse... They wouldn't be expecting anyone to carry a gun. They ARE fighters.. BUT still human."

"The hell..." Billy's laughter abruptly ceased. "You're SERIOUS..."

"Of course I am." Hopper answered as he slapped the plastic onto Billy's dumbfounded hands. "I'm ALWAYS serious." Hopper smiled.

"Why..." Billy asked in a concerned tone. "Why... What does Iori have that Geese might want?"

"I don't think you need concern your petty mind to comprehend something as grand as this... Billy-dear." Hopper mocked. "The old shit..."

"STOP CALLING GEESE NAMES, DAMN IT!" Billy roared and threw his fists towards Hopper.

Hopper smiled, and tipped his body to the side. Billy's punch dug into the tree, and made his knuckles swell, but it didn't matter much, Billy was on again. Like a rabid animal, Billy swung his fists again and again, without any control he just threw his knuckles, trying to destroy that grin on Hopper's face. Hopper was having a grand time. He swayed to the side like a drunken ballerina, tipping his head, his body to the side smoothly, making as little movement as possible to dodge the blows. Billy's fury increased, he kept on missing Hopper by only a fraction of n inch. Hopper was playing Billy like a fiddle again, wearing Billy out. All the while, Hopper made no move to retaliate.

"Oooooo, come on Billy, just a little more..." Hopper jeered.

"You cheeky little bastard!" Billy shouted, like clockwork, Billy slipped his hand to his back, and unclipped the snap on his holster. The candy cane red shaft was in his hands once again. Billy let the Bo (staff) free but it just missed Hopper's toes as he continued to dance his way around Billy.

(insert Bo thrashing ground while Hopper skipping back) speed lines.

"FIGHT LIKE A MAN YOU FAGGOT!" Billy called. He followed Hopper's slow staggering pace and threw his stick right in Hopper's most probable path. The Bo (staff) snapped in three in mid-flight. The red embedded itself into a tree trunk, but Hopper stood there scrutinizing it, his nose just millimeters from the glossy red. Hopper let his shades fall down the bridge of his nose and looked at Billy. Hopper's eyelashes drooped and his beautiful sharp eyes made a pathetic puppy dog look. Hopper brushed his blonde bangs from his field of view and just stared at Billy, his eyes mocking 'What the hell were you aiming for?'

Hopper smirked.

Billy angrily made his way to Hopper, collared him, and hoisted his frail looking body up an inch or two off the ground. Billy eyes tensed and his fist trembled. Yet he couldn't wipe that smirk off Hopper's face. Before Hopper could laugh again, Billy slammed his fist into Hopper's cheek. Hopper shifted just a little bit, despite the thundering blow, and slowly looked back at Billy.

"You lose again, STICK BOY!" Hopper said grimly.

"Keh!" Billy spat out and dropped Hopper onto his feet.

Hopper merely went for his handkerchief and wiped his mouth smugly.

"You pixie." was the most Billy could muster to insult the pretty boy. "TELL ME GODDAMN IT!"

Hopper was definitely beginning to get irritated by this brat so he finally gave in with a tired sigh. "Fine..." Hopper began. "Geese doesn't want Blacknoah anymore..."

"I KNOW THAT YOU..."

"SILENCE!" Hopper boomed, deathly serious. "Let me speak, (let me FINISH – DON'T INTERRUPT ME) I need not tell you any of this, you worm!" Billy, stunned, did as he was told.

"Rugal has the power Geese seeks. It is more awesome than anything you can ever imagine. True, Rugal is a freeman, he worked for anyone in his day, but the power corrupted him, poisoned his mind with ambition, now he's gone insane."

"Iori..." Hopper continued. "The only way to retrieve that power is to kill him, but if any normal peon kills him, the power will be lost for another century. Only IORI can regain the power upon Rugal's death.

"But if I kill Iori, then the power will be gone too." Billy questioned.

"Don't concern yourself with the details. Do as you are told. Let's just say that it is easier to retrieve the power from Iori's corpse rather than it is from Rugal's."

Hopper began to digress a bit, but it was in vain, Billy's train of thought was already lost. Billy didn't understand anything else Hopper said, except KILL IORI.

When you run out of things to say you usually make a joke. Any joke, any joke at all. You spit out the most incoherent, inconceivable, uncomprehendable string of words you could think of... But instinctively, it is the only way you can say how you feel.

"You're really a spoiled brat you know that Hopper!" Billy smiled.

Hopper put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about. The adjective is - just outspoken." Hopper replied with no malice intended. "The old geezer gives me the attention so I do my job well."

Billy looked to the side.

"The old man always did like you best." Billy said trying to force a smile.

"Well, whatever, Billy. If Geese thinks he sees something in me, I don't care about him, just as long as I can do my job."

Billy would never call Geese old geezer. Not because he was afraid to die... He might have been a simple minded hotheaded guy, but he had something Hopper didn't have, in a sense this quality Billy had was righteous, but then again, sometimes Billy wished he didn't have it...

"Tell your old man, Geese, that I'll be more careful." Billy said. With that he folded his Bo (staff) slowly and tucked it back into its holster.

Hopper smiled. He dusted his coat, straightened his hat and lit another Cigarette in his own enigmatic fashion.

"**Mata atode... Aniki...**" Hopper said as farewell. ("See you again... Big brother...")

...

Epilogue:

From the very beginning I was dealt a bad hand. My mother was a whore, and Hopper's mother was an aristocrat. I always wondered why Geese, why fath... no he wouldn't want me to call him that.. I always wondered why Geese took me in, was he afraid of the capabilities of a vengeful bastard child? If I had one question, I would go up to him and asked if he loved my mother, but I don't want to make Geese feel uneasy, at the same time I am afraid he might laugh at my face. Phony or not he would laugh in my face and I would crumble to dust.

I hate stupid people.

I don't fancy spoiled brats either. It's terribly ironic how children who're showered too much love and too much attention take it all for granted, and the initial outcome the parents desired was all in vain. Yet there are those denied so much, they become rebellious, warm blooded, but all they wanted was some attention, in that dark world, some sign of acknowledgment, for their acts of respect. Unlike people like Hopper who care nothing for his loving father Geese. WE just wanted to be loved.

But... He is my brother. I am not a weasel like he is. I am a simple man who does as he's told, never had to think about much except Geese's well being.

I am not a saint, I want to be acknowledged for my deeds. I am a joker, make myself a joke so I can hide my shortcomings, and most of the time, feel uninhibited to say what I feel.

Billy gripped the plastic firearm hard in his hand. He dreaded the day he would be forced to use it. Trapped between his loyalty for Geese and admiration for Iori.

When that time comes, no jokes will save him.

...


	29. Say Anything

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

(NO MATTER WHAT EVIL WE MAY COMMIT… we continue to live,)

"…yet before every sunrise, we could absolve ourselves of all our sins."

-the IRONY of the holy catholic .GOSPEL.

**Chapter 29: Say Anything**

"Say Anything..."

-X Japan.

Six O'clock.

In a few moments, La Bijoux would be alive once again, but ironically, all the life had been drained away from those who made it so.

Yuri stepped up and turned the doorknob sluggishly. She used to come in hours early for work, she used to have that enthusiastic spark in her eyes, and she used to be so full of life and energy. Now, she was nothing but a drone. A lethargic drone. The world La Bijoux had furnished for her was now gone. It had been a whole month since Robert had left, and he never came back. Yuri tried so hard to convince herself that it didn't matter, that Robert would just disappear, never come back and she wouldn't care.

...

Clark was already up and about when Yuri entered La Bijoux, {With that sickening grin on his face} Yuri remarked to herself. Clark stays in the guest room on the first flight upstairs, and makes sure King wakes up to do her routine. A perfect fiancée... King was up and at the ready earlier nowadays; she gets up with Clark in the morning, and goes to sleep like normal people. Any person would think that everything that happened these past few weeks was for the best. {There she is again... Here I am again.. at work} Yuri sighed. King was over at the bar, cleaning glasses and wiping the counter.

"Good afternoon, Yuri-chan." King called.

She was extremely happy. It took Yuri a while to get used to it. Over to the side Clark was showing off is his own 'seemingly innocent' way. One thing Yuri noticed was that all the other waitresses were coming in earlier. Clark was flirting with them again. He had one of those 'chip n dale' collars on, those bowtie jobs with no shirt, and over it he had a jacket. The other waitresses were having a blast watching him flex all over the place. Yuri instinctively gave a disappointed look and looked over to King. She was still cheerful. What kind of self-respecting woman would smile at the sight of her fiancée playing the exhibitionist to a couple of teenage tramps?

{Oh, sure. Doesn't King even care about him...} But Yuri didn't know anything about what happened with King and Robert. She couldn't ask if it worked out or not. Why had Robert left 'their own private England'? Their own world. Did King reject him? He's been rejected before, what would make this any different? Was it because of Clark? Robert never gives up on stuff considered 'manly'. HE wouldn't back down from a competition or a fight. Yuri didn't want to ask King anything, not for fear of embarrassment, or because of the possibility of being called a nosy tramp.

Robert found out he truly loved King, and maybe he couldn't accept it.

"Hey."

Yuri broke out of her trance, only to be greeted by Clark. She smugly gave him a wave, pretending to be tired from schoolwork.

"Yuri..." Clark grinned. "What's with the sour face?"

"Nuthin.. Just trigonometry." Yuri replied, hoping that it would end the conversation.

Clark paced around the club. Everything was in order weigh before opening time, thanks to Clark's organized system. He leaned on the bar and smiled at King. King returned the smile. Yuri only took off her brown, leather bomber jacket and slinged it over her shoulder as she made her way to the den to change into uniform. Before she reached the hall, Yuri looked back and saw Clark over by the bar, holding King's hand and {...doing all that mushy stuff...} she thought. The waitresses blushed, screeched silently to themselves while covering their ecstatic faces with their trays. King covered her face with her apron and mentioned that it was embarrassing with everyone watching. She gave a reassuring smile.

{A REASSURING SMILE?! What the hell is that?} Yuri shouted inwards. She had known King ever since La Bijoux opened a while back. {What a damn PHONY!} Yuri didn't notice that she had stopped and was standing at the edge of the hall, just at the end of her field of view of the couple. That wasn't King behind the counter; that was a fake! Yuri looked inwards, and slumped a bit. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to go home early and maybe watch some anime (Japanese animation), maybe 'Koko wa Greenwood' to liven up her spirits. She knew that she had finally gotten sick of this job. She loathed the work, she despised the waitresses, and she hated the pathetic display the couple by the bar went though everyday for the past month. Yuri began to dread every day. She began to hate everything around her that slowly unfolded. Instead of a curious world that unfolded every next day – it became a reminder of irritation and sickness. Every new day that was a smile soon became a rancid burden. Change.

Yuri wasn't the same anymore; she knew that. Yuri leaned by the walls of the corridor leading to the den. She put her hand in her pocket to appease her uneasiness, and then just shut her eyes and grinned. Instinctively she looked to the side.

"Hey Robert, loo..." Yuri stopped in mid sentence. She had done it again.

...

Whenever she felt confused or troubled, Robert was there. Robert was always there. Yuri would slump down but when she looked up Robert's grinning face would be there to meet hers. On some very few occasions Robert would sit down talk with her, and laugh at her paranoia. {"You're gonna get through puberty and laugh at all this!"} was what Robert used to say. More often, he'd just go on with his lecherous way, then of course he'd get a hearty slap or a beating from Yuri, who thereafter, felt alleviated and cheerful. Robert was always there to take her frustrations and bottled up feelings.

Yuri looked to the side, but he wasn't there...

How things have changed. Yuri's fingers lightly touched her lips, and slowly hey curled to cup her face as her knees buckled. Yuri sat down in a squat and hugged her knees tight against her body.

Who gave you permission to do this, she asked – who gave you the RIGHT to do this to the world; she grit her teeth unconsciously at whatever higher power above. To make humans so weak and wistful – to toy with us so! To cut us down even when our bodies were not bleeding.

...

This night was no different from any other... Office ladies and salarymen crowded the place. They loosened their ties, sat back and crossed their legs. There were no bosses to impress, there were no colleagues to be phony to. It was just La Bijoux, the Shang-rila on earth. Clark at least had the decency to wear something.

{Thank goodness.} Yuri thought in relief. He stood by the door, greeting guests and flashing his cool smile. Numerous people commented that the 'usual' bouncer wasn't there. Yuri could help but eavesdrop, and occasionally she would hear "..You're new, and 'what's-his-name is gone eh?"

{WHATS-HIS-NAME...} Yuri repeated in her mind in disgust... She wanted to go over and scream "ROBERT, THAT GODDAMN GUY'S NAME IS ROBERT!", but she didn't. How easily people are forgotten. Yuri noticed too that many couples stopped by the door just to talk to Clark, the newbie, especially the girls, and they were pretty elegant about their flirting. Their stupid boyfriends couldn't even get a clue. Clark didn't even make any effort to keep his distance; he was really getting into flirting with other people's dates.

Yuri decided to take a break and leaned over by the counter to catch some small talk with King.

"So, how is school treating you, Yuri?" King opened up.

"Nothing... Just school... My trigonometry teacher plays 'Hotel California' on the guitar while we take quizzes. And HE'D open with ["URRGHMM.. NOW, for your listening pleasure..."] " Yuri impersonated with her best scruffy cigarette torn voice.

King broke out laughing, then made a weird hand gesture, like she was tapping someone on the shoulder, kind of like a 'gettouta here...' kind of thing. Yuri made no reaction but took note of it. It seemed so out of place to the tough King.

"So, I notice that you've been eating BREAKFAST lately..." Yuri said in her best 'phony...' joking accent.

"Oh yeah, Clark does his thing and wakes me up.. It's worse than an alarm clock... He's threatening that he'll do a back breaker or something..." Then King broke out into bimbo laughter.

"..." Yuri paused a bit. "So how're you getting along with Clark? Hear that there's something going on between you two..." Yuri stuck in with a 'nudge nudge' sign.

Oh yeah.. she mused.

"Oh, well, yeah, I knew him from when I was a kid and all. It's been going on for a while... and.. yeah, he finally visited.. and all..."

Slowly and carefully - Yuri analyzed every word King said. Yuri had read the letter from her father. She wasn't convinced. Something was not right here. Anyone can fake a smile. That was what Robert once told Yuri, but the eyes... Moreover, Yuri was a girl too...

"Good evening!" King and Yuri heard Clark call out.

The pair looked to the side and saw a trio of familiar faces. Andy was dressed smart in all white, except for his black purple polo shirt with a red tie, his long golden hair slicked back as usual. Then there was also his brother Terry, he had a white polo shirt, tucked out with khaki pants. {No hat.} Yuri commented to herself. Ofcourse, Joe Higashi was between the pair. Joe had this egg yellow suit with a plain white shirt under it.

"KING-CHAN!" Joe echoed as loud as he could. The usual. There were a few instinctive stares from a few people, but as a whole, Joe was pretty well known in Bijoux, for both good reasons and not so good ones. Clark gave Joe a look, well, to Yuri, his grimacing mouth gave it away, since his shades were in the way. King looked to the side. Yuri was quick to catch that. Suddenly King was so busy and immersed with her work.

Andy was looking a bit strange, probably because Mai wasn't there, but Yuri couldn't help take note of the uneasy, stiff look he was giving his brother. Oh well, if anything, Joe was there. Yuri chuckled a bit at the contrast between Joe's cheerful mug and Andy's face.

Joe came over in his usual way.

"The Muay Thai king has arrived, King-chan!" Joe opened as usual.

Joe leaned over at the bar and smiled at King. King proceeded to wipe the glasses and subtly looked away. After Joe was getting in the mood of talking, King had no choice but to jump in.

"So, I haven't seen Terry in a long time... I hear he just moved into New Hong Kong.. A few months ago?" King began.

"Oh yeah, I thought I'd show him the place, since Andy and I go here a lot." Joe replied. "How are you getting along with work? I call sometimes at night but you're asleep."

"So does Terry live in Little Italy as well?"

"Uh..." Joe paused for a second. "Yeah, he lives there, not with Andy though. He has his own flat. King you..."

"So how's the diner?" King cut in. "Why isn't Mai around."

"Uh, she'll be here in a while." Joe replied hesitantly, FINALLY getting a clue. "KING..." Joe said a little more firmly leaning over. "You're not returning any of my calls."

"Oh.. I didn't have time and all..." King said, looking up to meet Joe's eyes for a moment then looking back down to wipe her sparkling, perfectly spotless wineglass.

"Hey, I mean it's cool that you're getting sleep now and all. Actually I'm very happy. I just wanted to know if you were all right."

"Oh... I'm fine." King was quick to reply with a smile. Still no eye contact.

...

"Andy, looks like Mai's going to be late." Terry said at the table.

"I should've picked her up." Andy grunted more to himself.

"Andy."

"What?" Andy said. "...Oniisan." He was quick to add.

"You've been acting really weird ever since I moved here. It wasn't like before."

"The fight?"

"Yes."

"Oh forget it. I just had a bad day. It was just a routine thing." Andy replied trying to dismiss the topic, and looking around to scout if Mai had arrived yet or not.

"No, I don't think so. There's something more. You weren't like this before you started working here in NHK. I'm your brother. You can tell me."

Andy forced a smile. "No really, it's okay... Oniisan. (Big brother)"

"..."

"So how do you like the club?" Andy asked.

"It's nice. Do you always come here?"

"Yeah, with Joe and Mai."

"I don't know... I don't think I fit in here. Do you think I look okay?" Terry asked with an insecure look on his face as he pinched and pulled the clothes he borrowed from Andy.

Andy smiled... A little more sincerely now. "It's fine." Andy said.

"I never had to go to these kinds of places."

"Don't worry, it's a fun place. You'll grow to like it."

...

Terry is a simple man, never had to play dummy in a formal gathering or whatnot. This place... LA Bijoux. It has some magic. People throw away all their frustrations about their dreary office lives. It is a place where customers can throw away their attaché cases and loosen the invisible reigns that strangle them more than their tight neckties. A place where they can drop everything, throw away their suits and be themselves.

Andy smiled, laughed to himself. Terry just sat there, with his beer. He had never been served a beer out of a bottle or out of a mug. There was this weird looking thing that looked like a large, square champagne glass, it had a short stem and a little handle. He looked at the 'mug' and sipped from it 'calmly', and between gulps he would look around and then scrutinized the clothes he was wearing.

Andy smiled, laughed to himself. Terry was human after all, but Andy still couldn't accept it. What a stubborn vengeful little brother, but he laughed anyway. In La Bijoux, Andy threw everything away, put it aside for tomorrow.

{"Damn it!" yells that seniour vice president as he sent his palm down on the table like a piledriver.

Andy Bogard had fought all his life and with his blood sweat and tears as he climbed the ranks to his position in the company now, but he is only plagued by anxiety, worry and hate. It was a board meeting and what was on the table were the excruciating demands of the labour union, and as usual, Andy was blamed for this. According to his superiors, the only reason the union had so much courage to put up such demands was because his brother was one of them, and his superiors assumed that Andy was in league with these fools to put the company down for his own gains.

"I SAID..." Andy exclaimed, "I have NOTHING to do with Terry Bogard!"}

To hell with that. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered here. Andy flagged down a waitress to order another round of whisky. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe? To hell with that...

Oniisan.

Andy instinctively ended his sentences with when he addressed Terry at times like these. Terry was always 'Oniisan' (Big brother) to Andy, a perfect image of what he had always strived to be. He never dreamed he would see Terry like this. It was uplifting to say the least. Uplifting to know the brother he loved is really human and no god.

Respect. Admiration... and Longing.

Sometimes the real world warps those feelings.

Defiance. Spite... and Jealousy.

"Oniisan..." Andy cut into Terry's awkward feeling of insecurity.

"What?"

"I hate you." Andy mumbled with a grin.

"What did you say?" Terry asked, squinting his eyes, and putting his hand behind his ear.

"Nothing..." Andy slapped the side of his face and continued drinking his whisky.

...

"I hope you still listen to my messages, King-chan." Joe said.

"I... Yes, I do Higashi-kun." King answered.

"HiGaShI-KuN?!" Joe said with a deformed face. "My aren't we formal tonight? What happened to Joe-chan?"

"Oh.. ha ha..." King tried to laugh. "Sorry.."

"You didn't come over that time when I invited you to go to the diner. I thought you could make it now that you sleep better."

"Sumimasen (sorry)..." King uttered. "I was..."

"Oh, come on don't tell me you were busy all this time? I just wanted to show you the place and all the new James Dean posters I put up.. I fixed up the juke-box. I'm deciding whether to keep the cd changer or buy one of those old LP juke boxes..."

"Yeah.. that's nice..."

"King-chan... Anything the matter?" Joe asked hesitantly.

Joe leaned over and reached for King's hand. Yuri could've sworn that King jumped.

"King..." Joe started.

"Hey. What do you think you're doing?!" Boomed a voice from behind.

"What the hell..." Yuri said silently.

A hand gripped Joe's wrist and forced his hand to loosen its grip from King's. Joe's hand flew to the side. Joe was caught unprepared and the best he could do was swivel his chair around in hopes to find out what in the blazing hell was going on.

Joe turned and from a slouched position, slowly lifted his head. His eyes, were still looking down, and he made them roll up slowly and menacingly to the threat.

"Teme... (bastard) What's your problem! Can't you see, the Muay Thai King is trying to have a PRIVATE conversation with yasashii (happy / kind) King here?"

"Since when were you the Muay Thai king eh, Joe?!" Andy called from their side.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrusai! (shut up)" Joe said, his form abruptly shifting into superdeformed. Joe quickly turned serious again and faced the interloper. {It was that new bouncer,} Joe was keen to notice.

"Can you explain to me what you're doing there?" Clark said calmly, but firmly.

"Who are you anyways? Go mind your own business." Joe snapped.

"I am. You second rate pineapple brain." Clark came back.

"What did you say?!" Joe called out sarcastically, while putting his hand behind his ear. "I can't heeeeeear you..."

"Not only do you look like a pineapple, you're deaf and stupid too."

"KONOYARO (bastard)! NOW you've done it!" Joe shouted.

Joe snapped to his feet and put his face inches away from Clark.

"We're gonna find out right now JUST how GOOD of a bouncer you really are Stevie Wonder!" Joe snarled as he poked Clark in the chest.

...

Andy put his third glass of whisky down and assessed the situation. It wasn't good. Terry too, looked concerned. Andy loosened his tie and propped himself up, the signs of the affects of the alcohol disappeared all of a sudden. Terry didn't know if he should be more concerned of Joe or Andy.

"It's coming down like a house of cards, Oniisan." Andy remarked.

"Soh... ('uh huh...')" Terry agreed, he too stood up and folded up his sleeves..

...

"Keep your hands off King." Clark growled.

"Who's gonna make me? You?" Joe jeered.

"I have to, but I don't like throwing out garbage."

"Just who.. JUST WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Joe shouted - angry, frustrated, and annoyed at the same time.

"I'm her fiancée. And who in god's name are you?!" Clark thundered without skipping a beat.

Yuri stopped what she was doing and turned her head sharply at the chaos by the bar. Andy stopped in mid breath as his gut curled itself into knots. King, she… Terry knew the situation well enough; the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, fighting the urge to curl his shoulders. It was a carnal human instinct.

Joe suddenly stopped and fell silent. It took a few moments for him to gather up his thoughts and straighten his bearings. Joe broke out in maniacal laughter.

"You're kidding me! No, you're shitting me through my ass!" Joe smirked. "And what if _I_ have something to say about it?! EH!?"

"I love King." Clark said openly, the waitresses around just stopped dead in their tracks and tried their best to conceal their blushing faces and keep their shrieks in. "AND YOU.. What are YOU to King? Eh?"

Joe couldn't utter anything. "I... I..."

"WHAT!?" Clark cut in shouting. "You gonna say the same too? EH!? "

Joe stammered and couldn't say anything. The sweat was beading on his forehead.

"Say something?! SAY ANYTHING!" Clark prodded. "You gonna just stand down?! You spineless yellow bastard!?"

"Joe, yamero.. (don't...)" King said as she tried to reach for Joe's arm.

"Bakayaro! (idiot!)" Joe shouted. This was a man's fight now. Joe couldn't say anything at all... This fool made him look like a pathetic kid, and he wouldn't let it by. Joe was insulted, degraded, but most of all, challenged... Once the fires ignite, there is nothing anyone else can do. The only resolution is the fight.

"ORAORA!" Joe whispered.

"Hey, Come on!" Clark replied fearlessly.

Epilogue:

La Bizarre Love Pentagon is finally complete, and much like history, upon reaching perfection, the only route left is destruction.

...


	30. Narcolepsy

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

"..and WHY are we still here? Do we exist in this world JUST to SUFFER?!

..and why has [G_O_D] REFUSED to [take] us?

If INDEED he has prepared for us, a higher purpose, here..

IF he must TEST us.

IF he must TRY us.

THEN we will grant THAT bastard his wish..

And take BACK, [that] which was once OURS…

…and ours alone."

-the ultimate truth.

I will MAKE HIM give it back and make him regret everything he had done to us – and ALL his children..

**Chapter 30: Narcolepsy **

_Narcolepsy_ - a physical or mental condition characterized by a frequent and uncontrollable, stress induced state of deep sleep.

...

Masa and Mikaido scoffed with the glowing aura enveloping their bodies; Mikaido slung his left arm meekly over his friend. In response Masa threw his right arm on Mikaido's and shook him roughly - reassuringly. Their ghosts turned round and walked away with each of their arms over the others' shoulder proudly.

…

Eiji stood in a dark area of empty space. There was no chill; there was no heat, no sound or feeling. Just nothingness... He looked down at his hands and there were no wounds. His ninja suit was without gash or tear. He didn't hurt; he didn't feel.

Like a lost child, he looked around, tried to find some exit from the darkened room, away from the horrors his surroundings surely hid from him. He ran to the left, to the right, around, but he didn't have any sense of direction. The shinobi take pride in their honed senses, and when it failed them, they were as pathetic as a newborn babe.

"..." Eiji wanted to scream but was dumbfounded because he didn't know what to say. "NGGGAAARRRGH!" he let out instinctively. "Nnhgk NGGHK!" came the spasms like the stutters of a wailing child. Can you remember the times when you were a child and you were whipped because of the faults you would inevitably commit? Did you remember the gulps and indecipherable stutters you would make in between gasps? You wanted to say something, you wanted to defend yourself verbally, but it was all drowned up by your pathetic snorts and spastic gasps? Weren't you pathetic?

You didn't know what to say, because you were young – because you couldn't defend yourself from that who PUNISHED you. You had no option but to SUFFER.

Then there were.. there were.. voices. Voices.

IF YOU [FORCE] ME.

"Humph, you're pretty good, good enough I guess. Your soul belongs to me now." Iori's voice said.

"At least I don't run away from my fights." Billy came in turn.

Eiji tried to stare into the darkness. He swang his fists, but it hit nothing. He could feel the anger that surfaced within him, and he tried clawing, kicking like a caged beast. Ironic, for a dark cage 'so big'. It's interesting isn't it, how you feel so helpless in a small confined cage and a space so big that there seems to be no end. Either way, you have no control.

VOICES AGAIN.

"Coward!" Billy spat out.

"You're my dog now, eh?" Iori came again.

"Please, don't fight anymore. I want to end all this hate." Kaori's voice echoed in chorus to mock him even more.

A MAN FORCED TO KNEEL.

Eiji tried to focus all his energy, he tried everything he could think of.. Anything. Just to get away. {HAKAI! That's it.} Eiji thought in his panicked mind. {I'll use Hakai.} He dug deep into himself, but it was all a failure, he couldn't even light a spark. There was nothing there.

IF YOU [TRAP] ME HERE.

In despair, Eiji's knees buckled from the mounting stress as the sky gave way from above him - he plopped to the floor on all fours like the dog he was.

{I'm the greatest.} He screamed in his mind. {No one can defeat me. I have this.. This Hakai. I can do anything. I have conquered even death... Why am I trapped here? GOD DAMN IT! WHERE AM I!?}

Eiji was without choice, he was close to being driven insane. He knelt down in meditation, and before he could think of any other thought, his hands gripped firmly on his chin and the back of his cranium. One swift movement. {One snap.} He thought. {And it will all be over. I can't take it anymore. I do not want to live alone.}

"Do not take your life.. Promise me." He remembered the line and abruptly stopped himself.

Not today… NOT today. Eiji's pupils shrunk to pinpoints when the world faded into a bright, cool white, and then...

With Eiji's gaze locked downwards, the world around him rewarded him with a lush view. At that moment, just a few meters from his knees, the edge of a grassy field appeared in front of him. Familiar voices welcomed him from his slump, and filled with ecstasy and indescribable relief, he stood up and his eyes teared. Over by the distance he saw familiar faces. It was his departed comrades, Masa and Mikaido. The ninja pair laughed, getting drunk with sake while playing a Japanese board game. 'Go', he thought.

Masa and Mikaido flashed warm smiles and stood up to salute Eiji.

"Oi! Kisaragi!" Mikaido shouted, cupping one hand around his mouth and waving ecstatically with the other. His old friend bade him come, his friend's eyes curled gleefully because he had missed him, so much – he had missed him ever so much. The moment was an unadulterated emotion that could only be shared shamelessly between friends. Oh how he had missed him so in this vast plane and Mikaido couldn't help but let his lips curl inward and his teeth bit down to welcome…

"Konoyaro! Eiji da! (Damn it, It's that bastard Eiji)" Masa called out jokingly. Masa roared heartily, slamming his open palm on his knee. He gripped his fingers inwards into a tense fist. A strong sense of victory enveloped him and his companion.

Eiji started crying. It was all over. He had finally found what he had been longing for, for so very, very long. I had grown tired of the world –

[YOU] tempt me. You CUT me down so…

"Haha! The moron's crying!" Masa joked.

"Hey!" Mikaido waved, prodding him to come with his outstretched fingers and a warm smile under his cloth mask.

He [didn't] have to be strong anymore. Eiji was tired of the life he was living. He had learned to be strong when he ran away from his past life. This life he had tried so hard to leave behind. When all his friends left him, the only way he could live was to be the best. But what would be the fruit of being the best if you're alone? Always on Billy's case, and trying to find ways to get the best over Iori. This was the only way. Now, it was not needed. {TO HELL with those two.} he thought.

**Did YOU leave me here, in this darkness, to suffer?**

**Did you leave all your CHILDREN here to SUFFER – oh GOD?**

**Do I exist merely to distribute your PAIN to other human beings?**

"OI! KISARAGI-KUN!" Came a chorus of voices.

A troupe of ninjas jogged steadily towards Eiji. It was his long departed companions. The numerous Kusanagi ninja guards whose lives they spent in battle.

Ignoring it for a moment, that emotion welling from his eyes - JUST so you could alleviate your pain? What about THEM, my FRIENDS who died for you? Eiji pointed at those souls who smiled at him – those who welcomed him.

"I missed you so much; I'm home my friends." Eiji smiled, he smiled walking slowly and contently towards the bright glow – this warm light tickled his ears and slithered easily between his fingers, this bright glow that began to slowly envelope them all.

...

Eiji's face tilted downwards to the ground, the shade covering his gaze, but slowly, the yellow tempest that slowly swirled and erupted into a geyser between his feet, cycloned around him – then upwards, turning his spiked bangs upwards. His eyes, blank stark white and nether worldly, gingerly eased up to face the demons that bade him sleep.

Eiji's head cocked back, then tilted side to side as the joints on his neck cracked and snapped. From his backward slump, Eiji's chin floated down so his eyes met Iori's.

"It's cold isn't it.. (samui jyaneka, koko wa)" Eiji mumbled... "Welcome back my friends..." Eiji's voice broke into a hollow echoing multiresonating tone.

An electric shock dancing onto the ground, that SHOCK danced between the dust and surged a sensation between his toes. As if he wanted to answer even though no one was waiting. It's OK.

"Heh, peon!" Iori sneered as he made his way towards the glowing Eiji. "You've gone insane." He mocked. Iori's brows furrowed deeply, contorting his face into a twisted, sadistic menacing glare. It was definitely not him – even Billy who stood on the wayside could decipher that. He was another manner of madness.

Iori traced across Eiji's forehead with his finger and almost instantly, blood came flowing down Eiji's face.

Iori waved his index finger menacingly in front of Eiji's face. "Do you know, I've killed for less, you insubordinate bitch!" NYAHAHA-nyaHA HA HA, Iori erupted into an immature laughter.

"D.a.m.a.r.e. (be quiet)" The calm voices resonated in unison from Eiji's mouth. I CAN'T HEAR THEM… His command penetrated the annoying cackle, stunning Iori. Iori's eyes darted and he cocked his arm back.

"SHI-NE! (die)" Iori shouted. Iori sent his finger like a bullet towards Eiji's temple. Iori focused his vision dead center onto Eiji's eyes, to savour the look on his soon to be, lifeless pupils. There was no reaction. Iori was stupefied. He looked to his bullet finger, which he expected to be inside Eiji's temple. Instead, it – those same evil fingers was shaking in midair; Eiji's lone finger had stopped Iori's attack head on.

"Eh?" Iori said instinctively in confusion.

The world focused solely on Eiji's eyes as the scenery panned from left to right. Our cinema left nothing else than the focus on Eiji's eyes. Then to Iori's eyes moving from right to left letterboxed in their own silent play. Iori's fingers screamed eagerly wanting to embed themselves into Eiji's temple, but as a reply Eiji's squinting eyes grinned – his own fingers met Iori's fingertips and stopped them in their tracks as they twitched mercilessly only inches from their intended target.

"Yagami." Masa's voice said from Eiji's mouth. "Yurusanzo! (Unforgivable)" echoing.

"Kusanagi o mamoru... (I will protect the name Kusanagi)" Mikaido followed. "...jiekshiume! (fucker)"

"Yarou! (son of a bitch)" Iori screeched spastically. He immediately threw his off hand and clawed Eiji's face, and blood splattered everywhere, staining Kyo's face.

Eiji stood there with a sneering look in his eyes, his face didn't move and remained to the side after he had been clawed and slapped. But ever so slowly he turned back to face Iori, the deep gouges on his face were misted with a yellow haze that slowly became more apparent and visible now to everyone. The look that said. "Are you afraid? Confused?"

Kyo wobbled to regain his composure, and gawked at Eiji. He could faintly see a sort of yellow hue surrounding Eiji. His eyes opened in realization, that he had seen this scene once before.

"WWWWUUURYYYAA!" Iori called. In frenzy, Iori started jabbing both of his index fingers at lightning speed targeted for the hollow points on Eiji's face, especially at the old man's condescending eyes.

Eiji kept up the pace with ease. Their fingertips met repeatedly. There was a dizzying frenzy their fingertips crashing into each other, canceling each other like meeting bullets. Eiji's eyes were lazy, half slit and indifferent. In just a moment, in any given moment he made a mistake he could surely die. But it seemed – as if Eiji didn't care. That the consequences were beyond him.

Stunned, in denial, Iori couldn't believe that this man in front of him could keep pace with his attacks. It refused him, the fight that was supposed to end 90 seconds ago was still raging on. Iori slapped the back of his left hand across Eiji's face, hurtling the ninja's cheek and eyes to the right, and in an instant motion, stabbed his index and middle finger forward before Eiji's eyes could refocus.

"EIJI!" Billy screamed. "Look out, old man!"

Had he been a normal human, had he been raised a simple farmer's son without a care in the world but to work, but to sweat, and to die – had the world been 10 years ago, it would have been different. Those hungry, wild beasts that Iori threw at him would have ravaged his eyes and destroyed everything he had built. His life would have been in vain if that were so. Slowly Iori's fingers cut through space ready to end it all.

Billy willed every bone in his body, every muscle and sinew roared awake – his ankles tilted ever so, to propel his body into the air. Billy's bo straightened and plowed downward into the ground to heave him up to the heavens. Billy's teeth grit, crackling from the strain. ..but it was too late.

Eiji's lips puckered under his mask to let out a tired sigh.

But he was not so fortunate to be born a normal man. This was the burden I was given.

The perverted smile of Iori's, wide from ear to ear shined – his fingertips touched the sharp corners on the side of Eiji's eyes. Ever so slowly, Eiji's skin popped, molecules separating from each other and erupted into a red bloody burst. Inching closer, Iori's attack burrowed into Eiji's face. First through skin, then through the flesh that wanted to resist, and eventually gave way into a twisted mess. BLOOD.

Like a knife held in hammer grip, Iori's fingers stabbed into Eiji. YOU'RE GOD'S DEAD. Those fingers started to curl so they could TEAR Eiji's eyes from their sockets.

"Eiji..." The ghostly voices whispered very silently, they...

AND A THUNDERING BOOM! Dust from the ground erupted into life and darted upwards, vertically forming a wall between the ninja and Iori. The back of Eiji's wrist blew into Iori's hand, his knuckles cocking backwards as they wrapped around the attack. Then launching both his and Iori's hands skywards – the back of Eiji's left hand had successfully parried Iori's blow at the very last moment! Open palm held high, with no more importance than a mere mockery; Eiji swatted the blow away like a fly.

Eiji's eyes opened slowly and the orbs shifted to the side to face the young master. Glaring at Iori snobbishly, Eiji frowned under his mask – a gaze that penetrated through Iori, thundering into his being, and made his blood freeze for a moment.

"You are mistaken." Eiji assured to an unknown enemy. "Had this been 10 years ago…" he continued, "Had this been 10 long years ago… You'd be dead already, Iori Yagami."

Eiji's left hand continued the arc, throwing Iori's fingers to the side. Leaving his enemy open, the slow world immediately began to resume in a fevered speed that was slave to the ninja's pace – he exploded into a short instantaneous punch that jackhammered only a half arm's reach, cracking sternum, and in the same retracting motion grabbed Iori by the collar with his right hand and pulled him in. Iori center of gravity was deshelved and he stumbled forward, instinctively he pulled his left hand close to his body to defend.

Eiji pulled Iori close – within a breath away. "KI KO HOH!" Eiji shouted as he sent his left palm into Iori's stunned face. Iori was able to use his left hand to grab Eiji's wrist, pushing it upwards just in time so the dagger of light missed his head. Eiji pulled his hand away and thrust again "KI KO HOH!" he proclaimed once again repeating the attack. Again Iori hammered a fist down to throw Eiji's special move downwards. Now from the side, Eiji slapped his open palm to Iori's temples.

"KI KO HOH!"

Iori hunched back in a panic. Without so much as a pause in his beat Eiji launched three consecutive attacks that he could barely deflect. Iori twisted his body at the waist and swung his open right palm to the side in the hopes to catch Eiji's third attack like a softball. The boy's palm met Eiji's attack squarely, his open palm stopped. Looking to the side Iori could see that instead of an open palm, Eiji's fingers dug deep. The same angry energy concentrated into two digits glowed warmly – then it darted. Eiji's ki koh hoh launched like a blade of light through Iori's defense. The spike of energy materialized and appeared at the back of Iori's hand.

Iori failed to completely block Eiji's third and final attack. The shining spike of energy penetrated his hand and pierced the side of his temples and made him roar.

Iori roared defiantly and cupped his bleeding eye with both palms. He staggered back. His steps frantically beat, running backwards hoping to ballast himself against a hard surface – maybe to regain his bearings. Iori relaxed his grip on his face and let his eyes refocus on the panic that was unfolding. Peeking through the spaces between his fingers, there to meet him was Eiji's calm, ghost like face – and a firm left jab embedded itself squarely on Iori's nose.

Iori's face hunched downwards at the blow. Mouth gawking, his mind tried to process complex commands all at once but the thought became uncomprehensive, and without meaning. His body barely kept upright – his brain couldn't even issue commands.

"Surrender!" Eiji commanded.

Eiji's right fist thrust upwards to plow Iori's chin skyward. Just as Iori's purple blood erupted, Eiji hurtled his entire body to hammer his left fist downwards. Eiji twisted his entire being earthwards, ramming the boney part of his lower palm over Iori's head. Iori felt his back hit hard against that tree. He tensed his legs, braced himself, simplifying the orders to his body.

"Your Godly wishes have no place here!" Eiji roared.

{Yes, this is a human body.} he thought. {Slowly… First my legs.} Iori focused his attention to his enemy. He broke it down in frames. Eiji's left foot hit the ground as he approached him. Then his right. Slowly – slowly. Just a little bit closer, Iori thought. {His left foot will hit the ground,} he whispered. Then Eiji's left hand will raise up to finish me.

Eiji curled all the fingers in his left fist to unleash the finishing hook, and destroy Iori's will – pollute the earth with his blood.

"If you do not surrender… Then I will destroy you."

…But there was none of it.

The toes on Eiji's right foot dug deep into the earth and he heaved his entire body's weight BACKWARDS instead.

Stop.

At the last moment, Eiji changed direction, titled back and twisted counterclockwise. He swung his left foot behind him to turn like a top to the left of Iori. Iori's right hand only clawed air where he expected Eiji to be. Iori's counterattack failed. Eiji had pulled himself back and disappeared. He had shifted his entire body two steps to the left of Iori's line of attack, with only a blur of afterimages as evidence that he once existed.

Iori looked forward but there was no one there, Eiji had twisted around and sidestepped, faster than the mind could comprehend.

…

When the bright sunburst slowly faded and Eiji's eyes could once again focus on the forest around him. The ghosts were gone, and Eiji stood once again in a familiar clearing. It was his home in that forest, where no one would reach him.

With Eiji's gaze locked downwards, the world around him rewarded him with a lush view. At that moment, just a few meters from his heels, the edge of a grassy field appeared behind him and the view zoomed out into a vast freedom.

He took a step towards his home, then a voice seemed to warn him – "I wouldn't go down this road if I were you, young man." Eiji continued his stride anyways – "I wouldn't go there, Eiji."

As his punishment, dark shadows in the form of hands flew up from the ground and grabbed Eiji by the heels, his waist and leg, pulling him down. THEN the sight opened up to him, his heart sank and his eyes bubbled into a limitless flow of tears.

…

"If it weren't for you…" Eiji said in a monotone, nonchalant, so matter of factly he uttered those words, but his heart slowly, inevitably began to race faster - heartbeat thundering as the intensity of his attacks increased. His face was cold and the blank stare held no clues. But inside he shouted painfully. "If it weren't for YOU…"

Iori's mouth gasped open when the entire force of Eiji's right cross erupted into his left eye. A mixture of spittle and blood flew from his lips, floating in midair when time slowed to a standstill.

"**…My FRIENDS wouldn't have had to die.**"

…

10 years ago – Eiji knelt somberly and his arms wrapped around Kaori's shoulders and found their way to the back of her neck as he raised her up. The sunlight crept gingerly through the eaves of the trees above them, but still he was left in his own darkness.

"Kaori…" Eiji cried with tears streaming down his face – hugging his soon to be lifeless wife in his hands. "Why!?" he pleaded.

"Why, GOD? We live in this earth, because we wanted to be happy."

…

Here… We exist. ONLY, for fighting. GOD replied.

The shadowy limbs shot out from the ground and grabbed Eiji's head, tilting his cranium backwards to pull him into the dark bog that bubbled in the ground below him.

Eiji roared furiously with both arms outstretched, the yellow glow around him turned into thorns, fanged wings that launched in all directions – and Eiji – proclaimed his anger to the world. He would punish everything; punish mercilessly all that stood in his path.

Everyone pays their dues, their just price. And if you cross that line it will tear you limb from limb, and if you cross that line - The HAKAI will eat you alive.

…

Iori's face suddenly turned back, stopping the blow to everyone's surprise. Iori gurgled forcefully and spat out a thick goo from his throat, as if he were coming up for air. But this time it was different, Iori's eyes were peculiarly relaxed and calm, his brow seemed weak but still firm. Iori's pupils dilated as he desperately opened his mouth so fast his lips would move and it would take his words a moment to catch up. "I…" Iori growled. "I…" Iori willed his legs to launch his body upwards one last time.

"I…" he said, "Eiji - I didn't kill your wife." Iori uttered desperately.

…

Clawing the back of Kaori Kusanagi as she gasped her last breath. "..promise me…" she pleaded.

"Saishyu." Eiji mumbled, "SAISHYUU KUSANAGIIII!" Eiji erupted over the treetops, making the birds that lay in peace escape their homes in fright.

…

Eiji's eyes darted open once again, his body fell backwards. He could feel a hand grab the back of his shirt, felt himself being pulled back, away from that dark memory. The vision disappeared, Eiji could feel his racing heart calm down again. The shadows retreated again from their hellholes.

"I told you.. You didn't want to go there."

…

Yes, Kusanagi killed his own blood – just for the sake of honour. Because of me, and what I had done – he killed my wife.

Eiji's right fist relaxed open. His shoulders weakened, his knees crumpled at the ULTIMATE truth. As those words escaped Iori's lips, Eiji had already lost.

At the immediate opening Iori launched from a squatting position and threw both arms across his body. Iori's wild demeanour had returned, as if nothing had happened a few seconds prior. He grabbed Eiji's kneecaps, his fingers wrapped themselves around the back of Eiji's knees and as he pulled his arms wide, tore them free in a party of blood and eruption.

"Agh." Eiji muttered. Then his mutilated legs folded and he was forced to kneel. {You're right.} Eiji thought as his vision world tumbled to the side, and he toppled like a doll backwards.

"It was YOU who fell in love." Iori in a gruesome voice of madness answered.

Iori's hunched body slowly made its way to Eiji, who laid calmly on his back a few feet in front his monster. Eiji's legs were splayed open with a hideous amount of blood that rendered them immobile. Eiji maintained his sleepy gaze skywards just as he would _on a lazy afternoon looking at the clouds roll in the sky_. Eiji paid no care to the monster that hunkered over to him. Iori's arm dragged on the ground, his steps erratic, every other moment he would sway off course in a drunken stupor. When he made his way over Eiji's body Iori threw both palms onto the ground on either side of Eiji's head. He put both legs over Eiji's midsection in a mount position. Iori's fanged visage descended only inches from Eiji's intimidating him. Blood, sweat and disgusting fluids dripped down.

"It's time for you to DIE, old man." Iori hissed.

"I don't know about that…" Eiji replied, his look somewhat annoyed that his view of the clear sky had been replaced with a wretched twisted thing that once resembled his young master.

…

At the sound of those words, Billy's impending fear turned into an unbelievable shock. A shock that stopped him in his tracks, not knowing what to do next – bewildered by the old man's fearless arrogance.

At the same time Kyo's jaw was locked open, stunned.

…

{It looks like you took a bit of damage earlier.} Eiji mused. With that blow to your eye and head, it may take a while for you, even with whatever power you're using to fully heal and finish me off. On the other hand, both my legs are useless for now.

A yellow hiss emanated from behind Iori, turning around he saw the soft yellow envelope Eiji's wounded legs. The yellow glow grew brighter, erupting faster. Iori turned again to face Eiji, and he understood.

Yes. The question you are asking is – will your brain heal faster before my legs can start moving again. Iori's eyes grew wide, his brows twitched ever which way. You are asking yourself – is whatever evil power you have, more powerful than the HAKAI that fuels mine.

"If you don't recover before I do." Eiji warned. "I will destroy you instantly."

…

Despite no words exchanged between them, it became petrifyingly clear to all onlookers that in an instant, something – anything was going to happen. Perched on either side of Eiji's face, Iori balanced himself with both arms, focusing that man's calm face into the center of his frame of sight. He held his hand up and grabbing, tensing, easing, grabbing, repeating the motion desperately pumping his hand into a fist. Coercing the evil power to once again flow within his veins, a twitching, small purple spark appeared, but it wasn't enough. Meanwhile the pressure of the warm yellow glow behind him raced against his own purple flame.

Iori's hand trembled, a larger purple flame appeared for a moment then fizzled. The images that unfolded in the prose were taken out of sequence; freeze frames appeared one at a time. All happening within fractions of a second.

"Is that doubt I feel?" Eiji said calmly. "I do not know who you are, but you know and I know, that you are not at your full power in Iori's body."

[Had you ASKED me to kneel to you…]

Doubt had somehow crept onto him. Doubt. "Three of you." Iori finally came to the conclusion. There were three souls in Eiji's body.

"Eiji is unlike Iori." Masa and Mikaido said in unison. "You cannot take full control over Iori's soul yet can you?"

[Had you asked me… I may have submitted to you.]

Iori didn't utter another word but in response cocked his arm heinously wide over his own head and desperately hurtled his fist into Eiji's helpless face.

[But instead, you FORCED me…]

Eiji titled his head to the side before wrapping both arms around his enemy's midsection with enough determination to literally grab hold of individual ribcages. In turn, Eiji legs exploded into a yellow burst and his thigh muscles bulged awake. EXPLODED DEVASTATINGLY INTO LIFE. The ninja reflexively thrust his pelvis up, jolting Iori just high enough that Eiji was able to twist, slither, 'limbo' under Iori's legs, breaking past the mount position - to escape behind the forward stumbling monster.

Iori threw the punch too soon, and without enough purple flame to bolster the attack, his fist crumbled as it hit the hard ground. Before the kneeling Iori - grasping his broken fist in his other hand - could roar in pain - his world was cut by a short roundhouse kick - to the side of his head. His field of vision looked no better than shattered glass. Trapped in a broken place between bewilderment and disbelief, the sensation felt as if a pickaxe was driven across his skull.

[…and when a GOD forces a man to kneel, you have to be responsible for the consequences.]

Iori flew sideways, no different had he was thrown out of a moving car, tumbling over himself before crumpling motionless; Eiji stood behind him. "I told you didn't I? That I would destroy you instantly."

…

"Iori still has too much to live for..." Eiji's ghost said, looming over his enemy's unmoving body. "You cannot hope to defeat his will just yet. Your vengeance cannot compare to his hate."

"You!" Kyo cut in. "God damn it! It's you! You took Kaori away. You killed Kaori! Give her back to me! GIVE ME BACK KAORI!" Kyo slowly stood up and desperately launched himself towards the ninja.

"Kusanagi-sama..." Mikaido's voice escaped Eiji's mouth.

"DOKE! KOZO! (move it, brat)" Eiji's own voice now took command - he snarled as he shoved Kyo back to that tree. The wood broke Kyo's flight back. Kyo tried to muster up enough strength to charge, but fell to his knees. He was sucked dry, he had used up too much of his power. Slowly he could feel the numbness seep into him.

"Trust me. Kusanagi-sama." Mikaido again whispered. This was the last thing Kyo heard. In the blurry vision he could swear that he saw that three men in Kusanagi uniforms look over their shoulders and back at him as he fell into sleep.

...

A low growl once again commanded Eiji's attention; Returning his gaze back at his opponent he saw the dark silhouette start to lurch up from the shadows. Iori's features were hidden in the black with only his eyes and growling mouth catching glints of the light. What was left was a hunched, broken beast who made it clear that it was unwilling to surrender to anyone.

At the end of his patience Eiji took slow and purposeful steps towards the darkness that Iori laid in wait. He made his way into the darkness that tempted him. HE did NOT care. Increasing the pace of his steps. Leaving yellow wisps from each footprint he had left prior, Eiji was soon upon the monster. He looked downward at the cornered beast. He locked eyes with his enemy – an enemy that had been broken down into something inhuman and did not want to return to the light.

Eiji locked eyes with what was left of Iori, and perhaps in a merciful act had no other choice but to lift his right fist up slowly, knuckles cracking at every tensioned bend, to put the mad dog out of its misery.

"IORI!" Billy shouted. He forced himself in between Iori and Eiji with arms wide in a valiant hope to stop the fight. "SON OF A BITCH! What the HELL ARE YOU DOING, Eiji! STOP!"

Eiji stood up straight and looked past Billy and down at Iori who was on all fours.

I was perhaps just enough time and Iori clutched his belly before uttering a disgusting sound from his lungs, he vomited out a pulsating black mess – a mixture of blood, bile and hatred. His breath started to slow, sucking air desperately at a rate that he seemed to almost not want to exhale. He desperately did not want to end this story so soon with this chapter.

"Kisaragi-jiji? (old man Kisaragi?)" Iori mumbled in between laboured coughs.

Eiji's eyebrows twitched and perhaps almost endearingly lowered his fist.

"Jesus, Iori are you all right? GOD DAMN IT." Billy wrapped his arms around Iori's shoulders and chest in the effort to hoist Iori up.

"Get away.. Billy." Iori mumbled uneasily, the blood gurgling in his mouth, his shoulders visibly trembling. He was trying to stay focused, trying to expunge the horrible stuff from his stomach but still try to keep his senses.

"Iori!"

"I can't... I'll.. Keep.. I'll k..nnnngg"

"BILLY! GET AWAY! " Eiji called out to Billy. "SON OF A BITCH! ARE YOU STUPID!?"

"God damn it, you're killing him, you fucking old man!" Billy spat out at Eiji.

"HE... Heeeee'sss... POWER!" Iori mumbled.

"TEME (bastard)!" Eiji called out futility.

"I'll KILL YOU!" Iori roared, his voice changing once again. As Billy tried to prop Iori on his shoulders, Iori punched Billy's side. The breath was knocked out of Billy. A set of ribs cracked like Styrofoam. Iori cocked back again, this time his clawed fingers tore into Billy's side. Billy was caught in utter stupor, the man he was trying to save was gutting him on the spot. Billy didn't let go, he just tried to swing Iori around, to get some control. Iori used Billy as a ballast and hoisted himself up on his limping body. Without another thought, Iori cocked back as far as he could and his punch sent Billy flying back. Billy hit a tree trunk and ricocheted, finally stopping with a blunt THUD on another tree trunk, his lifeless body falling silent like a frail cat that no one loved anymore.

"I'LL SHOW YOU MY REAL POWER!" Iori's beaten, battered and enraged face roared. Iori steadied his fists on his side and exploded in a fury of purple flames. The leaves around him were burned to a cinder in an instant, and all that was left from the topsoil was purple amber. Iori laughed and sneered. His canines grew and saliva slithered down the sides of his mouth.

"I'll KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!" Iori shouted frantically in his deshelved, low echoing voice.

"Finally. Your doubt has consumed you." Eiji said calmly, his index finger pointed and mocked Iori's captor. "Do you think you can push yourself to the limits with a mortal's body. Moreover, with a soul that is not willing. A soul you cannot even control?"

[Perhaps.] One then two voices.. Perhaps your GODLY plan may be grander than mine; The two voices spoke in relay one after the other – Perhaps Iori's young body and fighting legacy had always been superior to this old Kusanagi dog. Echoing voices now three resonating within fractions of a second behind each other. Any other day Iori may easily beat me. Each voice trailing but slowly catching up.

But TODAY, you are playing by my rules. ..and then finally all three voices harmonizing together to build a fortress to destroy all monsters. Compared to you, Iori's hatred for this world…

Eiji cocked his open hands to his side as well. He stabbed his right foot into the Earth, embedding it deeply into the ground as an abutment for what was to come next. His biceps pulsed, his torso was pushed back for a moment from the exploding pressure of that yellow holy ball, instantly growing to twice the size of Iori's flames that began to rip into the soil, that began to devour everything.

"I will.." Eiji said.

"show you..." Masa roared. Tensing those shoulders.

"the REAL POWER." Mikaido came, twisting his right ankle, digging deeper into the ground and locking all the joints in the body he commanded.

"THE REAL POWER OF DESPAIR!" Eiji shouted. The fragments of earth broke free from their chains and floated skywards.

...

How can you compare to a man who has nothing to lose? There is no man braver than he who has nothing to lose. Tell me, honestly – can you really begin to understand a man like that?

...

Iori's legs buckled at the strain. The power he was absorbing and releasing at the same time felt like the burden of Atlas. Eiji's forehead was beaded with sweat, but his eyes were still and bloodshot, fighting the force that was crushing him painfully from the inside out.

{If this body dies...} Iori thought. {I will not have another chance to revive...}

A flash of night shot though Eiji. Then a spark in his eyes. Eiji let it all out in one blow. His mask was taut. The flesh on Eiji's mouth tore apart and bled at the sides, opened to its limits to let all primal urge out. The world was about to end; He was determined to make this the final chapter; The yellow ball grew grandly, transforming it all until finally, all that remained was a lifeless, pale white and the lines that were once people like you and me became indiscriminate sketchy lines.

_{If we build this fortress – amidst the clouds.}_

_{If we cross this line. Let's do it together.}_

_{Don't be sad Eiji – be happy. Stop crying.}_

_{Was there a higher plan for us?}_

_{It's okay my friend. Don't you understand… there is an 'ultimate truth'… if a friend dies for you…} One by one their faces smiled, but instead of the mocking grins Eiji remembered, their expressions became warm, and reassuring._

_"If a friend dies for you…"_

{I.. I can't...} Iori thought. {No, I am a god... I will have my vengeance. I am not yet done with this world!}

{**Get out.**} Iori heard a voice in his mind. Crimson was flowing from Iori's ears.

Eiji's aura was slowly engulfing and overwhelming Iori.

_{Let's make this a happy story; Let's make this a happy story with a happy ending.}_

{Get out NOW!} Came a bellow inside Iori. All the breath was knocked out of his lungs. "Damn, you.. You're resisting me?! How?! How.. can you have so much.. hate.."

"Compared to you… Iori's hatred for this world far surpasses yours!" Masa and Mikaido scoffed with the glowing aura enveloping their bodies; Mikaido slung his left arm meekly over his friend. In response Masa threw his right arm on Mikaido's and shook him roughly - reassuringly. Their ghosts turned round and walked away with each of their arms over the others' shoulder proudly – and with that they had finally repaid their debt to Iori's father. The hearty laugh on their faces became black and white sketches as their images slowly faded into the void. The silence was recognition enough. "The rest... is up to you."

Then...

Iori snapped. The purple flames died out in a flash. It was gone. Blood seeped from Iori's nose. Iori's eyes were white, and his face was pale. Like a sack of wet potatoes Iori collapsed face first into the hard earth.

"Kaori… Thank you." Eiji let out one last call, then his aura swirled, evaporated and died out as well. Eiji stood there motionless. As if he had just ceased to function. Motionless. As if he had died standing up.

…

A cough came from Iori's mouth. Then a pained smirk. "You can't b... be.. beat me.. you son of a bitch." Iori said to himself before succumbing to the sleep.

EPILOGUE:

Eiji was back in the darkness. Just at the edge of the meadow stood the forgotten. People who were neither remembered nor appreciated by their superiors. They found strength and courage from each other. The men. Fighting against each other and at the same time loving each other. For it is only those who share the same despair... Those who share the same suffering...

The crowd waved at Eiji calling him, prodding him to come closer. They stood by the edge of the forest, daring not to step any further.

Eiji could feel a hand grab the back of his shirt, felt himself being pulled back, away from that dark memory. The vision disappeared, Eiji could feel his racing heart calm down again. The shadows retreated again from their hellholes. In a state of trance, Eiji simply sat on his bottom unmoving.

"I told you.. You didn't want to go there." Masa said with a smile., shaking his head. He slowly walked past the sitting Eiji and headed for the forest clearing that lay ahead. "If a friend dies for you, Eiji Kisaragi." Masa uttered over his shoulder, "You can NEVER die."

Behind him a few steps was Mikaido.

"Hey, we'll see you again, buddy." He waved reassuringly and jogged to catch up to Masa. "Mata na, aibou!" He waved in a playful two finger salute.

From the dark, empty void, a voice behind Eiji interrupted. "Hunph, you're pretty good, good enough I guess. Your soul belongs to me now." Iori's said his arms crossed.

"At least I don't run away from my fights." Billy came in turn sneering.

Eiji paid no heed to Billy and Iori.. for all this time, they held little importance to him. To him they were meaningless. The only thing that mattered to Eiji now was is crowd of friends that lay in that forest clearing. That forest clearing but refused to take another step. He knew them all by name, what made them happy, what they hated, and what they said out loud when thought they were alone. Eiji's eyes forcefully sifted through their warm faces but he could not find [her].

"Eiji-jiji!" Iori shouted forcefully to bring the old fart back to him.

Eiji looked back to see Iori and Billy standing in the darkness behind him.

"Eiji, we still have to fight. I won't let you go until I beat you!" Billy said.

"Kisaragi. You said that you were strong. You were the best. You gonna give up now?" Iori called.

"Don't you fuckin' die yet, darn it." Billy roared and flashed a fist. "Or else, you've already accepted your defeat to me!"

"I won't let you die yet, you fool." Iori sneered. "This isn't the way. We're dreamers. Fighters. Nothing else to live for but to be the greatest."

"Rugal?" Eiji said without thinking.

"We're going to take her back." Iori said finally... "We're going to take back your life. The life they stole from you!"

LIVE! When a man loses his pride, he has nothing.

…

Eiji turned away and let Iori and Billy disappear into the darkness. In due time the forest disappeared into that world that was only white paper with ghosts drawn with black sketches.

Eiji just sat back and put his head on the soft grass. He weaved the fingers on his hands amongst each other and laid it on top of his stomach. He just closed his eyes. It was okay.

It was okay.

Eiji would just close his eyes and the silence will be his soundtrack. He imagined the sun, he imagined the soft rolling clouds of the sky and thoughtfully, with great, with great, painstaking care, he painted those images on the back of his eyelids.

His lips refused to move, his chest felt empty and calm. Eiji was sure he was going to feel something. Something that was like all the movies he saw in the 1970s and 1980s. Instead of that rapture, that profound feeling. Instead, he felt nothing.

"It was a good life." Slowly he felt himself fade away into a sound sleep. Narcolepsy.

* * *

..a sleep. Peaceful than any other – beyond that forest clearing, where revenge can never, never ever follow you.

* * *

{Let's make this a happy story; Let's make this a happy story with a happy ending.}

"Hey, is this space taken?"

Eiji's eyes opened slowly. A woman's head lay on the grass next to his. Looking down to the world from the heaven above, their feet faced opposite directions, but their heads lay next to each other, bodies aligned - upside-down from each other, both of their fingers were weaved amongst each other on their tummies.

"Hey.." Kaori Kusanagi smiled. A soft and warm love that could overcome decades.

The warm feeling penetrated Eiji's ghostly, once petrified heart and the pain that shot out soon evolved into a fearsome glow that radiated from the center of his being. His once hard, stoic face started to crumple at his eyes, he grit his teeth and scowled and smiled at the same time.

{If we build this fortress – amidst these clouds that roll overhead.}

What was this familiar feeling. It was a feeling truly unlike any other. Welling up inside rising from his stomach, Eiji's heart and finally exploding from Eiji's eyes, a waterfall of tears that flowed down his face and tore down that cold, hard, and lonely fortress that protected his heart.

{If we cross this line. Let's do it together.}

…and the TEARS. The TEARS would NOT STOP flowing. Eiji stopped breathing.. from his silent gasps and rabid heart, he had ceased to function.

{Don't be sad Eiji – be happy. Stop crying.}

"Hey.." Kaori invited.

Eiji turned to the side to face the only woman he loved. The most BEAUTIFUL woman in the world.

"Thank you.. for keeping your promise."

This is a story and a world – a world, meant only for two.

NARCOLEPSY [END] 9.6.2013

...


	31. Shodown

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

Based on the Characters of The King of Fighters '95 Copyright 1995(C) SNK

Original Fan Fiction Copyright (C) 1995 [ENGEL] Design Room 1995

pointblankassassin . com

This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

If INERTIA keeps the world together – then CONFLICT releases our hearts from their chains. Between a man and a man – and a man and a woman. The stars in the sky do mean nothing.

{Can I one day, may I have the JOY of enraging a man, and make him run to me this way – with his heart bared open – as if nothing else ever mattered tomorrow?} she thought.

IF you love someone – let them know – and IF you hate someone, them know – because in the end – isn't this… what this story all about?

"I cannot believe… I do not think anyone has the right to say that they completely understand another man."

-a word without time.

**Chapter 31: Shodown **

"Joe, yamero yo.. (don't do it...)" King said as she tried to reach for Joe's arm.

"Bakayaro! (Idiot!)" Joe shouted, throwing his hands totally appalled at the thought. This was a man's fight now. Joe was completely cut down my this new bouncer, he couldn't say anything at all, couldn't think of a comeback... This fool made him look like a pathetic kid, and he was as hell not going to let it by. Joe was insulted, degraded, but most of all, challenged... Once the fires ignite, there is nothing anyone else can do. The only resolution is the fight.

Joe's arm went high, his elbow cocked over his face as he reached for the back of his collar. He whipped it, and in one fluid motion, Joe pulled off his yellow coat along with his white shirt. The coat went over his head and his left arm slithered from his sleeve. Joe threw his clothes to an adjacent barstool. He fixed his gaze dead straight at Clark, who only looked at Joe condescendingly.

"YAROU! (bastard!)" Joe called. He flexed his bare chest, curled his biceps as high as they would go in a ready fighting position and his teeth tensed in angst. Almost like second nature, Joe cocked his leg, and made his right knee stick out. He straightened himself and slapped his bare shoulder, patted his yellow trousers and threw up his hair. "You die now. Mr. HANDSOME-sama (that would be JOE praising HIMSELF) is going to beat the living crap out of you! Get ready to face the prince of PAIN!"

...

"Kyosukero yo, Onisan! (Careful, big brother.)" Andy said. Terry nodded sternly in response.

"The prince of pain…? Really, Joe…? Really - the prince of pain?...?" Yuri said dryly, flatly out loud in a nasal tone. Her shoulders rolled over lethargically, with her half slit eyes to match; she couldn't even keep herself upright after hearing something so corny.

Andy rolled up his sleeves and scanned the perimeter. Even with his face painfully still his eyes rolled left and right in their sockets, breaking down the bar into strategic sections, thoroughly predicting how the environment would aid or hinder the unraveling war. Terry, in turn, rolled his fists round at the wrists, relaxing them, then cupping his fist in the other cracking his fingers. Both brothers let out a sigh as they came to the same conclusion. The optimum line of attack and resulting splash zone. With the crowded bar, it would surely influence the tide in that direction. Terry looked to the right and thrust his temples slyly but purposely to the side.. 'That way.' He motioned to his brothers, letting his gaze guide the way.

Yuri's brain hurt from the utter stupidity of the matter. Why are they even fighting? How did it come to this? What is wrong with a man's brain?! Her bubble popped when she saw movement from her flank. "Wha- wait - what?!" Yuri squirmed in confusion.

Terry's hands clamped down on the sides of the table approximately 7 o'clock from Yuri. Another grunt came in response, Andy was on the other side supporting his brother – the table was up in the air.

King's vision jerked one way then the other and her worry began to feverishly manifest on her sweaty brow. "Oh.. wait.." she pleaded.

The whole cast of characters stopped themselves in their tracks and in unison turned to the brothers. Superdeformed (SD) versions of Terry and Andy were moving tables around to the side to clear up space. With cheerful faces they stacked chairs upside down on far tables many hours before closing time.

"Uhm.. What are you two doing?" Yuri asked as the pair continued to busily clear an open space for the arena, neatly with great care making sure the tables and chairs around Joe and Clark were neatly out of harms way.

"I still think we should split this fight up." Terry tried to convince Andy.

"You stupid! This is Joe we're talking about. After all those conceited things he said, there's no turning back." Andy replied with half closed round eyes.

"OOOOOOIIIIIII!" Joe screeched. "WHO'S CONCEITED?"

"This is a public place, Andy, you can't condone fighting here... These people might get hurt or worse, leave!" Terry reasoned, paying no attention to SD Joe.

Andy put the table down, as a result, Terry suddenly lost his grip and the leg hit his toe. A LARGE, round teardrop swang from his eyelid like a pendulum. Terry's hands wrapped around his foot; he grit his teeth in pain.. "Ow owow!"

The spotlight was Andy's now, as the world focused on his now serious glare, the shot it all out across the now open dance floor at Joe's enemy. "You don't think you're going to get out of this in one piece do you!?" Andy matched Clark's grimace. Off at the background Terry was skipping to and fro behind his brother, clutching his swelling foot with both hands.

"Hey.. hey guys!" Joe tried to inject, though unsuccessfully.

"Andy. NO." Terry said now in a serious tone. He put his hand on Andy's shoulder to restrain him, but Andy slapped it away, turned around and gave a menacing stare.

"Get off my case, Oniisan! (big brother)" Andy roared at Terry.

"This is no way to solve the problem."

"You chickening out? Don't you care if Joe gets beaten up?" Andy said.

"Andy, it's one thing to condone a fight but ganging up on one person..."

"HEY!" Joe called again.

"Look, I'm talking Joe, just SHUT UP." Andy cast Joe aside and returned his gaze to his older brother. "YOU CALLING ME A WEASEL, ONIISAN!?" Andy's demeanor steadily increased. Terry saw Andy's fist cock back and put his guard up.

"ANDYYYYYYYYY!" came a continuous voice that was steadily getting louder rocketing towards the younger Bogard.

"Eh?" Andy squeaked.

Mai flew like a torpedo, head first into Andy, toppling them both over.

"Oh, Andy… I'm sorry I took so long. I had to do a lot of errands and.."

"M...M...Mmma..Mai!?" Andy stuttered, his stern rage was immediately replaced with a frantic, fantastic panic.

"I'm so glad you waited for me." Mai Shiranui playfully said as she hugged Andy tight and smothered his with her entire body with glee.

"hgnDkkON'T, ngYOU'RE smSMUTHEeerRING ME!." Andy gasped. "ngI kgk CAN'T BREATHE..." Mai's chest suffocated his face, her entire body overcoming Andy's on the ground.

Terry sighed and proceeded to move tables in resignation as Andy tried to get his face off of Mai's chest in the valiant hope to get air.

"O-right.. O-righhht.." Yuri, wore a striped hard hat on, with a glowing rod in each hand directed Terry's redecorating efforts, air traffic control style.

...

Clark straightened his bow tie with both hands before thrusting both palms out in front of him. He kept them there for a moment, tensing his shoulders, then relaxing, rolling them in their sockets. He let the curling motion flow down like a wave down his biceps, his elbows, then to his hands – feeling the twinkling sensation reach his fingertips as they lit alive – his arms slithered - mimicked a calm wave before easing to a still. Reminded of an old Chinese kung-fu movie, the motion retracted back his arms, the jazz music continued, the band oblivious to what was unfolding. A trance like electronic chorus filtered through the air, Clark reversed the motion, the wave going back from his hands, to the elbows before the motion finally settled to his shoulders. Clark finally put his arms up in a defensive stance – hands open by his temples, and to punctuate the ritual, he tilted his head downwards, grit his teeth hard and bared his fangs in a smile.

"Nimmu.." Clark uttered (mission).

"Just what are you trying to prove here. If you've got nothing to say then don't pretend you're trying to make advances on King."

"CLA.." King started but stopped.

"KING! Aren't you going to stop them?!" Yuri reasoned to King, taking off her hard hat as she clipped her glowing flashlights under her armpits. This seemed the only logical recourse for her and her.

King kept silent.

Joe cringed in angst and snarled. He wasn't gaining any points, it's time to take this one full contact. As in – for real FULL CONTACT. Like, fullcontact . com, like Hotmail . com!

"Joe! YAMENASAI! (Please stop this!)" King tried to reason, putting both hands on the bar in front of her.

Terry walked cautiously up to Clark with both his open palms in surrender. "Look." Terry began, making sure Clark saw his hands up; He made sure that he understood that he wasn't looking for a fight. Behind those dark sunglasses – only mystery answered him. Terry took cautious steps when he was sure that Clark didn't retaliate at his initial advances.

Yuri Sakazaki didn't understand. She didn't understand how all this finally devolved to this mess. What was wrong with MEN? A wayward comment here then there. Silence – then finally they had come to face each other as if they had killed each other's children, ready to tear at each other. I don't understand it. How could men escalate such petty things to fighting?

Terry eased his pace as he closed the distance to Clark. He was okay he thought, he could diffuse this situation if he kept his cool pace and…

Joe's face trailed by Terry's side and when viewed from the side, emerged in profile from Terry's own face. He ran faster than his legs could ever imagine, the void Joe left behind in his wake sucked in the air to fill in the emptiness; Terry's body was pulled back. Cheek to cheek with his friend, Terry, Joe dashed towards Clark full force, screaming heartily for blood. Terry's outstretched arms of surrender were cast aside when Joe burst into action, overtaking Terry. The man's left foot ripped into the ground, ripping marble and concrete, and thrust forward.

In reply Clark stood there, the colours around him slowly swirled, a plain, hungry void of black and white, centered in Clark Steel's body sucked everything in. The void called to Terry, temping him inwards, and as he realized that if his calm mind was suddenly shaken by Clark's aura, Joe, never calm was probably ready to tear his own body apart limb from limb from extreme rapture. That void that sucked you into its pure, unyielding evil invitation.

30 minutes ago, Andy and Terry could hardly gauge this man's fighting prowess. His cold soul, hidden behind those mysterious shades – his eyes covered from the world, felt nothing more than flat bravado. But, now Terry guessed, that behind the voids that lay shelter underneath those dark tinted glasses, may lay a beast…

"Joe.. yamen' da yo.. Stop, he's strong..." Terry silently said to thin air, then stopped, for he knew that it had begun, the fuse was lit, and any discouragement of this sort would only put Joe at a disadvantage.

"hunfgh! nnggmmMagnAI!" Andy mumbled in SD form. He was slamming his palm on the ground like a pinned wrestler, and the rate of his slaps were getting slower the more air he lost.

...

"Yaksaki IKUZE!" Joe called – LET'S GET IT ON! The ties that bound Joe's ankles to the earth burned to a cinder, ashes remaining, and finally, released from the laws of gravity, he flew upwards, floated - with wings.

{I never really understood this, this.. thing.} she thought to herself as time seemed to slow – as she broke down every chapter, as the girl, she broke down every frame trying to analyze how it came to this…}

Why? When another woman smiles, looks a man's way, he is so ready to make a fool of himself. He would stammer in sentences, use words he would never use otherwise. Trying to break it down to coherent thoughts… If a woman were to take a meaningless, careless moment to look a man's way he would break down, and crumple into a dirty mess. With a smile.

…AND at sudden, unreasonable, illogical provocation he would be ready to kill another man without another rational thought. What was this, such a preposterous concept? In that one moment, MEN were justified in breaking chains… only to FIGHT another man.

A carnal law beyond calculated reason? Or maybe I was just simply two steps behind?

This… I can never understand. How at one moment, a man could be weak and helpless, and in another, he would roar valiantly as if the world would END tomorrow. {Why did you leave me behind?"} she thought. Men can never understand us, and we can NEVER understand [THEM].

This… I can never understand.

Perhaps – this is why men are only [attracted to each other] – in this way

…

Joe didn't wait for Clark to say anything and just leapt to the offense. He took a few hops forward then twisted his whole body. His body was free from all rules now.

STOP.

Joe's cocked knee floated up gradually until it lingered head height to Clark, waiting there… Joe stabbed his eyes downward from his perch up high –his lower back tensed, making his world erupt into flames. To TEAR your face from its hold below.

Clark looked up. Joe looked down – his knee trapped in the limelight. Then.

Flinging his hips forcefully forward Joe extended his right leg forward, foot leading. Joe's knee floated in mid air with his body suspended by invisible strings. The momentum turned Joe's entire body around enveloping his attack into roaring fires that would devour it all.

"Flashyu Kiiiick!" Joe screamed. Joe's body thrust forward directly toward his enemy with no inhibition. Joe Higashi was now no different from a Patriot missile, ready to take Clark's head off his shoulders with no regrets.

Mister Dan Steveson took a deep breath, tapped his toes onto the stage beneath. When that musician wrapped his lips around that plastic piece, the world came to life. The jazz band, as if on queue, souped up the tempo.

Clark's hands swayed in a graceful manner, moving like waves, overlapping each other, twisting, turning. At one point they would be high in the air, the next instant, down low, then somewhere else, splitting and coming together like a smooth dream.

To Joe, the dream would be ended as soon as his foot tore that smug man's face, sheared it off his neck. A thundering crack, and explosion…

Without even realizing it, Joe's foot was in a vice grip. Both of Clark's hands held fast onto Joe's ankles.

"Nimmu.. ryoukai." Mission understood, Clark uttered on instinct.

"KONOYARO (you son of a bitch!)!" Joe cussed eyes ablaze. Instead of blocking the attack, Clark has stopped the Taiga Kick by gripping Joe's ankles be the sides.

Joe paid no attention to his trapped leg and just twisted his waist again the opposite way, this time using Clark's grip as an abutment, he reversed to deliver a slow yet surely devastating sledgehammer roundhouse kick. Clark let go of the hold and ducked low, letting the follow up barely graze his blue cap. Joe jumped up to reorient himself with the floor.

"ORAORAORARORAORARAAA!" A flurry of punches attacked Clark.

Clark answered with a flurry of slaps, fingers lightly covering Joe's knuckles, sending them aside, his palms throwing the blur of punches aside easily.

"What are you doing? I'm not even attacking yet." Clark jeered.

"Shut up!" Joe stepped back and suddenly switched tactics. This time he sent his legs to Clark, in hopes to send that smirk on his face to hell. Joe was fighting now, and he wasn't as cocky or rash. He knew he wouldn't beat Clark with a speed trick, so he relied on his kicks. Muay Thai. The famous Thai kickboxing, where a fighter's greatest asset was his legs. Joe's legs could go through hell and back, tougher than tree trunks and more devastating than steel. Joe's kicks were slow, but each blow felt like an ogre's club. Clark could easily catch the kicks but was definitely showing signs of fatigue as each kick weakened the strength of Clark's blocks. Yet still, Clark continued effortlessly it may seem. With each of Joe's behemoth kicks he parried, pushing them, lifting, then throwing to the side, and in the next moment he would regain his stance. Unaffected.

"Heh, you're just wasting my time, kid..." Clark muttered in bravado.

True, Clark was clearly getting tired, but so was Joe. Higashi had to turn the tables somehow or else it would turn out for the worse, for him. Left and right. Joe couldn't think of anything else but to continue the tempo so his enemy couldn't regain his bearings. Even if Clark could block and parry his full roundhouse kicks, it wouldn't be without a price. Clark hasn't done any attacks and Joe would only be caught off guard.

Joe let out a grunt and hurled his entire body clockwise to heave yet another kick past his enemy in the hopes to find an opening. Clark flashed a grin, he realized, as Joe's kicks started to get slower. No, not that… Joe purposely slowed down to regain his bearings and to let his strength last for a little more. He watched Clark's hands; they were now flowing with a smooth figure eight, tracing a small infinity symbol in the air.

…

"AHH!" Terry finally realized, fists and fingers curled inside.

…

"HIMA DA!" Joe called, welcoming the opportunity that the goddess of fortune laid open for him, and him alone. In her own way, she seemed to smile…

and the music kept its pace – to keep everyone satisfied…

Joe hopped back, and dug his heels. Joe sucked in all the air his lungs could take. He kept it all in until his rib cage protruded through the skin on his chest and spun around, braced himself onto a barstool and flew towards Clark.

"WUUUUURYAAAA.. KURAYEEHH! (eat this)!" Joe thundered.

Clark's fingers tensed. Joe came in with his sledgehammer roundhouse again, this time propelled in the air. Clark made his palms sway in his defensive dance.

{What's he trying to hit?!} Clark thought. Joe was in the air and heading for him, sure, but with his trajectory, he'd surely fall short before he'd get a chance to hit Clark at all. Joe came anyway.

"UUUURRRRAAAA! Your mug is MINE!" Joe shouted as his right foot came sweeping in high. Clark instinctively held his ground and put his hands up. Joe missed Clark's face by a mile, all he hit was Clark's right palm squarely, which was thrown wide. Clark tried to regain his balance, and his thrown hand went with the flow of the kick, twisting in mid flight, to fly in a circle, as if choreographed, trying to return to the defense stance.

{What the fuck is he trying to hit?} Clark mused.

Upon hitting the ground, Joe shifted the weight of his body so he would fall to his right, and at the same moment, swinging his left hip, foot now roaring again. It missed Clark's face again, only to hit Clark's left hand solidly and a crack of light.

{He missed again.. What a moron..} Clark played with the thought as if he was fighting a child. {WAIT...} Clark snapped, with a concerned look showing on his mouth when his lips came apart. {Jesus KURAYSTO!}

"SO NO TORI! (EX-ACTLY!)" Joe proclaimed with a fanged, gloating, smile.

The view zoomed out – the camera angled, swirled around Joe and Clark 360 degrees - and from Clark's stance, and exposed the final predicament. Joe had knocked Clark's hands wide and Clark was dead open. Joe had shifted his attention to Clark's face and instead put full force on… Clark had been paying too much attention to defending his body when what he should have been concerned about was his defensive stance.

…his full POWER, onto attacking and destroying Clark Steel's defense.

Joe didn't spend more than a fraction of a second to gloat. Terry diverted his attention from Clark and saw that Joe had his yellow jacket in his hand.

…

{His coat.. that when he…}

…Joe sucked in all the air his lungs could take. He kept it all in until his rib cage showed through the skin on his chest and spun around, braced himself onto a barstool and flew towards Clark.

…

"KUROSUCHIYAROZE!" (I'm'agonnakillyou!), and with that, Joe threw his jacket over Clark's head. Darkness.

{Can I one day, may I have the JOY of enraging a man, and make him run to me this way – as if nothing else ever mattered tomorrow?} she thought.

Joe ran to Clark. He weaved his fingers together and put them over the back of Clark's neck that was shrouded by his yellow jacket. Joe pulled Clark's head down with his entire body weight and preceded to mash his face and chest with multiple, point blank bludgeons of his knee. ONE… ONE.. ONE THEN TWO.

"SHI-NE! (die) Shi-Ne Shi-Ne Shi-Ne!" Joe thundered.

At his limit, the last knee smash rocked Clark's body.

Finally Joe released his hold on the back of Clark's neck and let his hands balance in the air in front of him. His fingers were all sticking out to balance himself as he cocked his right knee back. Faster than a golf club, Joe's knee flew up – as powerful as it swung skywards, he swung with its championship blow. Making Clark stumble back.

"MADA MADA... (it ain't over yet...)" Joe sneered.

Joe put his clenched fist by his side, and slowly the air around it started to blur. There was a light gust of wind that progressively got wilder as the power in Joe's hand increased.

"KOREDEMO KURAYE! (take this)" Joe roared the flames arising. "HI-saaatsu (desperation move)... HURRAAAAKEEEN Pun..."

"Joe! STOP, You'll destroy the place. Clark's too far away!" Yuri cut Joe in mid sentence.

AH.

"Unn..." Joe stopped and processed Yuri's simple command; before he could decide on his next course of action, Clark was already getting up from his slouch. Joe cursed his indecisiveness, and put his hands on the easy.

Joe's yellow jacket slipped down off of Clark's head, exposing his gleaming smile. Joe stood flabbergasted, none of his hits had connected. Clark's hands were still flying like wisps, covered with numerous bruises, but still, they didn't slow in their dance.

Joe thought hard how he could've missed, he was sure he had knocked Clark's hands clear off their paths for him to reorient them in his choreographed dance.

"Hunph." Clark grunted. "You're no match for my defense."

"The fuck!?"

"Listen." This stance is called the bamboo. They sway in the spring breeze and dance in the winter storm, but no matter what obstacle, they will never fall. Be it be the east, south, west, or north wind, they will not topple. They dance with the winds, in no one direction, no specific manner, however... "they are invincible, showing no sign of weakness..."

Joe cringed in frustration.

"Sohshite... (and then...)" Clark gloated. "Ore no HIMITSU! (my secret...)" Clark held his glasses and a twinkle flashed.

"URUSAI, JIJI (Shut up, old man)!" Joe yelled.

Joe exploded in flames one last time, his final burst of energy.

"TAIGAAA KICK!" Joe called, as he executed his flying knee crash, aimed for Clark's midsection.

Clark put his palm on the back of his other hand and guarded his chest, bracing himself for the coming onslaught.

{ Can I one day enrage a man, to feel this sensation…}

{COME ON! COME ON! Block Tiger Kick, if you do it at this range, you'll break every bone in your goddamn arm, I'LL SEND YOUR BONES UP THROUGH YOUR SHOULDERS!} Joe growled inside.

{UNPARALLELLED by any other.} she wrapped her hands around herself, she warped herself in a warm embrace - clawing tightly.

[ALLUSION] of greatness.

This colour purple is FAKE. Each one of their voices shouted. STOP reading now. If you continue reading, then, your mind will be destroyed. "Why did he.."? she…

Clark's hands moved.

The fingertips broke away from the weaving grip from each other, then around silently, to that one place and Joe suddenly realized that he had stopped in mid air.

[PRETENTIOUS…] this story has no meaning. I never expected it to be.

All of this has no meaning… Why is life filled with confusion? {she said}

This story is pretentious. It held a higher art – It did not deserve.

{Ba..bakana! (impossible!)} Joe gasped.

Instead of taking the impact, Clark had dodged to the side and grabbed hold of Joe's shin with both hands.

"KONO! (YOU!)" Joe stuttered.

"TODOMEDA, OROKAMONO! (it's the end, fool!)" Clark shouted.

Clark heaved with all his strength, turning his body round and round like a top, Clark, with his hands again on Joe's ankles giant swung to keep pace with the revolving world… and slammed Joe in to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

SLAMMED. The spittle floated upwards from the impact.. slowly… Joe couldn't believe but all he could mutter was gurgles. All the air had been knocked out of him and Joe couldn't move, he felt the life being sucked out of him slowly.

{Shit.} Clark mumbled as he regained control.

Joe tried to shiver, jerk to convince himself that he was still alive, but to no avail. END. Clark approached him, and picked him up by the wrist, and slinged the lifeless body over his own shoulders. Clark then fixed his gaze onto Terry.

"Well..." Clark said flatly.

"No, you've won, it's over." Terry said calmly.

"Here then." Clark said as he flinged Joe's body to Terry who caught the bulk in his arms.

"He lost." Terry accepted, and slapped at his friend's face to wake Joe up, paying no more attention to Clark.

...

The crowd of people silenced themselves from their bickering about the fight and proceeded with their own conversations. The hysteria calmed and the fighters just looked at each other, not knowing what to say next. Joe started to move a little, and tried to look up.

The blurry haze slowly took hold, even if didn't want to accept It, he said it anyways…

"King..." Joe said hesitantly.

"KONO AHO (you idiot!)" King scolded the beaten Joe. "I told you not to cause any trouble in Bijoux. **I hate you**!"

This was the final blow, and Joe couldn't understand what Terry was screaming. He didn't understand: "JOE, No, don't sleep, wake up! SKAISHIRO YO! (hang on!) MEO SAMASE! (open your eyes)".. This was the final blow, from King and Joe lapsed into the darkness.

... 


End file.
